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MOTHERLY TALKS. 



THE HOME 



HOW TO MAKE AND KEEP IT. 



ii 



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By MRS. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 



" Home, home, sweet, sweet home." 



FEB ^0 1883 '4 



Minneapolis, Minn., 

BUCKEYE PUBLISHING CO., 

1883. 



Copyright by 
MRS. HENRY WARD BEECHER, 

1883. 



KLKOTBOTYPED AT THB FBANKIIN TYPK rOUNDEY, CINCINNATI, O. 



TRAVIS BEOS.. , ^""^'^'^ ^^^ 

.,. ,. ' Minneapolis. 

Binders, Minneapolw. 



There is a RIOHT way of doing everything — however rnnple— 
which, if conscientiously followed, will insure satisfactory results: 
there is a WRONG way, which, if persisted in, ivUl insure failure. 
And the right way is always the easier. 



PEEFACE. 

For some years past a corner in " The Christian Union " has been 
set apart for brief articles relating to the daily labors indispensable 
in all classes of homes. In these articles were given not only such 
suggestions and cautions as seemed most needed in the performance 
of the daily manual labor of the household, but in addition an effort 
was made to lift housekeeping above mere drudgery by consider- 
ing those motives and principles which are best calculated to secure 
the happiness of the family circle and the home, and indirectly, 
the welfare of society itself; but which, if neglected or regarded 
with indifference, are certain to bring misery, if not ruin. 

These articles have, from time to time, been carefully revised 

and gathered into permanent book-form, for ready reference and 

convenient use of those for whose especial benefit they were written ; 

namely, housekeepers, especially the young and inexperienced, upon 

whom rests the responsibility of making and keeping the home. 

cv) 



▼1 



PBEFACE. 



Now, once more, comes an urgent request to gather into a volume 
another series of these "motherly talks," made up of what seemed 
to be the most practical and helpful of a long series ; and consent 
has been given with a hope that the lessons may prove interesting 
and instructive to mothers and wives every-where, and especially to 
that large class, who marry and assume the perplexing duties of 
housekeeping, before their domestic education is completed, and in 
many cases before it has even begun. 



OONTEl^TS. 



* ■ PAGE 

Household Cares and Home Duties 11 

Take Care of the Kitchen 14 

Who will Heed 17 

Controlling Infants 20 

Fancied Insults 21 

If I should Die To-night 24 

Kind Words 27 

Hotel Life 29 

Supernatural Warnings 34 

Now and Then 37 

Do unto Others as you would they should do unto you ... 42 

The Lottery of Life 45 

Good Health — and How to Keep it 48 

One of the Plagues of Egypt 51 

Cleaning Lace 54 

Closing the House for the Summer 55 

Hard-wood Floors and Black-walnut Furniture ... .57 

Fine Glass and China ... 59 

How to Manage Stoves and Ranges 63 

Foolish Comparisons .......... 67 

As the Twig is Bent, the Tree Inclines .69 

A Well Dressed Lady 72 

" I have no Man's Proxy — I Speak for Myself " 74 

The Care of Birds 77 

Judicious Seasoning 82: 

"Who will show us a Perfect Way? 84 

Ladies' Extravagance 87 

Begin Wisely 91 

Train up a Child in the way he should go 95- 

True Courage and Self-control 98 

Are Church Fairs Beneficial? 102 

Keep Your Daughters Near You 105' 

Growing Old 108, 

Politeness at the Table Ill 

Familiarity Breeds Contempt . . 114 

vVU) 



-viii CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Be Patient with your Boys • 116 

The Persevering Moth 120 

Unconscious Selfishness 123 

Flowei-s for the Dead 127 

Unfortunate Resemblances • . 130 

They who have Understanding Seek Knowledge 133 

Surface Work 136 

Not through Pride hut for Increased Usefulness 140 

Poor Health . 144 

Mistakes and Precautions . . 145 

Eings . • . . 149 

Superstitions Connected with Precious Stones 154 

Prove all Things — Hold Fast to that which is Good .... 158 

Hints about Washing . . 162 

Starch and Starching ,171 

Ironing , 176 

The History of Coffee 180 

The Use of Cofiee . . . . . . . . . . .184 

Tea .191 

Tea Culture 193 

Home Saints — and Parlor Ornaments . . . . . . . 198 

"Don't tell Mother" 199 

Judicious Economy. .......... 202 

Presence of Mind 205 

Be in no Haste to Change 209 

Which can Make the Happiest Home . 212 

Ancient Bills of Fare 213 

Unequally Yoked 216 

Over-indulgence is not True Love 220 

The Care of the Sick . .222 

Promptness and Self-control in Sudden Illness 225 

Organizing the Firs^t Home \ . . . . 228 

Too Tired for any thing 231 

Cooking by Steam 235 

Oil Stoves 239 

The Same Old Story '' . . . .243 

Which shall Govern, Husband or Wife? 246 

Bear ye One Another's Burdens 249 

Window Gardening , . . . . . 253 

The Guest Chamber 255 

Parental Duties ' 260 

Searching for Knowledge 262 

A Sinful Waste of Time 265 



CONTENTS. ix 

PAQK 

Skillful Nursing 268 

March, April and May ' . . . . 272 

Live and Learn 274 

Malaria 277 

Long Engagements, or Early Marriages 285 

Coarse Language and Free Manners 288 

Wliere is the Blame? 291 

The Tomato 293 

Relief for many Household Grievances . 296 

Hope On, Hope Ever 300 

Food for Infants 301 

How to make our Daughters Sensible Housekeepers .... 305 

Harbingers of Spring 307 

The Kitchen 310 

Bread — the Materials from which it has been made . . . .314 

Bread made from Cereals 318 

Selfishness and Rudeness at Table 322 

Labor-saving Machines * . . . 327 

Lions in the Way . . 329 

IjCmons ............. 331 

Turtles 333 

First Useful, then Ornamental 337 

Fall Cleaning 339 

Woman's Wrongs 343 

Fashionable Dress ... * 348 

The Surest Remedy 352 

A Review 356 

Lleedlessness ............ 359 

Practice Makes Perfect 362 

House-cleaning. . , 366 

"I Wonder what Next" 369 

Order is Heaven's First Law 370 

Spring Labor ............ 372 

Teach the Boys '.-.... 375 

A Talk about Beds • 378 

Marketing 381 

Repairs ............. 385 

But a Moment's Work 388 

June Cares 391 

Milk and Butter 394 

When Doctors Disagree, let Common Sense Decide .... 398 

S.'iperficial Neatness. 400 

Little .Things, but Useful 404 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGK 

Training of Children .407 

Washing Days 410 

Too Much of a Good Thing 413 

Children's Troubles 417 

Vocabulary of Cooking Terms 421 

" Pot au feu " or " Pot on the fire " 424 

Yeast : .... 424 

Bread 426 

Breakfast Cakes . . . . . 432 

Oatmeal 441 

Soups 444 

Fish . 458 

Oystei-s 462 

Carving , . . . . 467 

Meats 469 

Poultry 486 

Vegetables 501 

Eggs 506 

Pastry 510 

Puddings 514 

Creams and Custards 519 

Cake 522 

Canning Fruits 526 

Jellies 533 

Pickling 536 

Salads and Sauces. . 543 

Butter and Cheese • - . 549 

Drinks and Cordials 553 

Confectionery 555 

Mushrooms 556 

Miscellaneous 666 

Alphabetical Index 595 



THE HOME. 



HOUSEHOLD CARES AKD HOME DUTIES. 

Money can always buy a housekeeper. Love only can secure a 
home-maker. A good boarding-house or hotel will supply every 
comfort that a housekeeper can give. But a good wife and mother 
— who alone should be the mistress of her husband's house, will 
insure a home. Unite the housekeeper and the home-maker- let 
them be one and indivisible — and that union will provide a refuge 
from all outside trouble, such as can be found nowhere else, and 
such as God designed home to be. The mistress of the house 
should be capable of having full superintendence of all household 
affairs, and should find pleasure and honor in doing it. Every de- 
partment of her domain should be arranged with such system that 
her employees will fiud it easy to " fall into line," and obeying her 
laws — carry forward, each her appropriate work — as the mistress 
has designed. No one, hired to take such superintendence and su- 
pervision, ever succeeded in giving the true comfort and relish — the 
pure atmosphere of home. 

Believing this idea to be correct, we constantly urge that moth- 
ers should feel themselves bound to give their daughters the do- 
mestic training that will enable them to become preentinent in all 
such knowledge as will fit them, when they enter society, to be not 
the most fashionable, or followed by the largest number of dis- 
tinguished admirers, but noted for intelligence, for modest demeanor, 
for mental culture, and for being thoroughly versed in all such 
domestic knowledge as will be needed to enable them to make 
model homes. 

(11) 



12 HOUSEHOLD CARES AND HOME DUTIES 

There are many roads that lead by different turns to the same 
termination, so the rules by which to attain to perfect housekeep- 
ing differ widely in many particulars, but all meet in a common 
center, from which it is plain that systematic labor, scrupulous 
neatness, promptness and strict economy, are absolutely indispen" 
sable to secure a well organized household, whether among the ri(;h 
or the poor. Those mothers, who lead their daughters from early 
girlhood by these rules, are laying the foundation for noble, sensi- 
ble, energetic women, and the most perfect housekeepers and home- 
makers. 

Early instruction in domestic economy is the true way to find 
real pleasure in such duties. Let the instruction be given pleas- 
antly — a little at a time — so that the young girl is not wearied by 
it. As soon as the child begins to see satisfactory results flow 
from her small efforts, it will not be long before she will take pride 
in the work, and without urging reach out toward other trials of 
her skill, until, step by step, she finds useful work no burden, but 
having been taught to do each thing perfectly, even though re- 
peated trials were needed to secure the desired result, will never 
again feel any hesitancy in attempting the necessary work. She 
has conquered, and henceforth will know her power in that direc- 
tion, and find much enjoyment in it. 

Because the first attempt may be a failure, not once or twice, 
but often, it need not, on that account be a terror. Make the first 
trial short, explain in words easily comprehended by a childish 
mind, where the mistake was made, and how to remedy it; then 
send the young damsel off with gentle words, for a play, or to 
some little service easily comprehended, and after a time let her 
try again. Give full praise for the very smallest improvement in 
the next trial, and show her just where the change is made. It 
will not take many lessons in such little duties or work as a small 
girl is able to do without injury, to make her fully equal to the 
effort. Only be very sure, no matter hoAV often the lesson needs 
to be repeated, that it is learned perfectly. Accept no work that 
is only half or carelessly done. That is an injustice to the chUd. 
But be a patient, cheerful, smiling instructor. 

We remember how a little girl was taught to sew, the lesson 



HOUSEHOLD CARES AND HOME DUTIES. 13 

having been commenced when she was scarcely two years old. 
Ihreading the iieedle, was the first step, and seated on her mother's 
knee, it was as people often say, " as good as a play," to see the 
little midget trying to hold the needle right, and pass the thread 
through the eye. But she succeeded before she had time to get 
impatient and weary, and was so elated that she wanted to try 
again. But that was judiciously put off for awhile. The next 
attempt was very easily accomplished. Then came the trial of 
taking the first stitch. That would have been easy enough if the 
mother had allowed the child simply to push the needle through, 
regardless of how much or how little cloth was taken up. But no. 
A little square of pink and white calico, not two inches across, had 
been basted together, and the little one, again on her mother's 
knee, was shown how to take up just one thread of white and one 
of pink, and sew them together. Every stitch that did not come 
up to the exact standard was pulled out, and it was several days, 
and many, many trials before that little square was completed. Of 
course the next was more quickly dispatched, and courage growing 
with success, the child undertook to make the whole of a doWs bed-- 
spread, but every stitch was to be peifect. The doll's bed-spread 
grew into a bed-spread for her own bed before she was four years 
old, and under it all her own children have since slumbered. 

But befoi'e the spread was finished little Miss became ambitious 
of making her father a shirt, "every stitch of it with her own 
hands, and the shirt well made, every stitch as true as a die," 
was presented to her father, a " Christmas gift," before his little 
daughter was five years old. 

Now there is nothing wonderful in this, and it is told simply to 
show that in all first lessons, if the child is not allowed to take the 
second step till the first is mastered, she may even in her play be 
learning how to perfect herself in womanly duties, and by so doing 
learn to do all so easily that when she steps into full womanhood, 
she will find "the yoke easy and the burden light." 



14 TAKE CARE OF THE KITCHEN. 



TAKE CARE OF THE KITCPIEN. 

If possible, a large airy kitchen should be secured, even if, to 
possess it, one must relinquish some few elegancies or conven- 
iences in the less important parts of the house. Few servants are 
blind to the pleasure of having every thing nice and convenient in 
the room that may be to them a home, perhaps for years, and no 
girl worth keeping will intentionally deface a well - appointed 
kitchen, or rob it of the little niceties and tasteful arrangements 
that awakened a cheerful home feeling when she first entered it. 
One does not often find servants who have the skill or training that 
will be needed to continue the perfect order in which they may 
have found the kitchen. Most girls need to be guided gently, for 
a short time at least; but there is abundant opportunity to de- 
velop and exercise true taste in the kitchen as well as in the par- 
lor. Even in the uneducated we see the striving after the beauti- 
ful and tasteful in the many rude attempts which they make to 
beautify their kitchens and laundries. The mistress should always 
notice and encourage this, while, at the same time, a word of ad- 
vice, a few quiet but skillful changes, will lead the girl to see the 
improvements, and, little by little, educate her into better and 
more satisfactory taste in her embellishments. Unfortunately many 
ladies have not the health or strength needed to take such a super- 
vision of their affairs as will insure a neat and well - arranged 
kitchen — such as it does one's heart good to behold — and it is still 
more to be deplored that too many have no taste for any house- 
hold care. On the contrary, they have a positive repugnance to 
care of any kind saVe the genteel arrangement of their parlors, 
and, when once this is perfected, it is chiefly left in charge of a 
servant with somewhat indefinite orders *,' to keep the parlors in 
order." The mistress then goes to her own personal adornment, 
preparing for a round of fashionable calls or amusements. 

This class of housekeepers shun their kitchens as if they were 
infected. They may occasionally enter long enough to order some 
fancy dish^ — if wishing any more elaborate preparation for company 
than their usual bill of fare; and if the cook and waiter prepare 



TAKE CARE OF THE KITCHEN. 15 

and serve breakfast, dinner, and tea at the proper time, and in 
passably acceptable shape, they feel that they have performed all 
that should be required of them. So long as their parlors and re- 
ception-rooms are stylishly furnished, the state of the kitchen gives 
them no anxiety. They do not inquire as to the condition of 
the utensils in daily requisition, or if the supply is adapted to the 
amount of work the cook is expected to accomplish, or if the 
various articles are of a kind fitted to expedite and simplify the 
labor of that department. To go into the closets and pantries and 
examine for themselves, is a piece of drudgery not to be thought 
of for a moment. If indeed it should occasionally be attempted, 
most likely the mistress would find herself incompetent to inaugu- 
rate a reform should one be needed. 

Indeed, there are many homes where the kitchen appears to be 
entirely separate from the domain of the mistress ; a region for 
which the cook is alone responsible. If ladies are content to eat 
what is set before them — "asking no questions" — not "for con- 
science' sake," but to insure self-indulgent indolence — why that is 
their right, and it is not for outsiders to interfere with their fall 
enjoyment of it. 

We know there are many who find no bliss in such ignorance, 
but, preferring to know when and in what their food is prepared, 
willingly accept the care, and often great annoyance, Avhich such 
knowledge may bring. But, we also know that in very many 
homes, where every comfort and luxury abounds that riches can 
furnish, small attention is paid to comfort or convenience in the 
kitchen. Refusing to provide straw, Pharaoh exacted the full tale 
of bricks from the Israelites of old ; so some housekeepers exact 
the most elaborate meals without any thought of providing the 
conveniences which will best enable the cook to gratify their 
wishes. The writer has watched with suffering ones, in times of 
prevailing sickness, where the furniture, glass, silver, and works of 
art were of the most exquisite elegance. When all the family were 
exhausted, it has been necessary at times to visit the kitchen to 
prepare something by the doctor's orders. Too often has that de- 
partment been found as shabby, ill -appointed, and wretched a place 
as can well be imagined. In such a kitchen one may well be at 



16 TAKE CARE OF THE KITCHEN. 

one's wit's-end to prepare the most simple beverage in the broken 
dishes and worn-out utensils which are found where all should be 
neat and convenient. 

Whenever possible, a large, airy kitchen should be provided, 
with every thing to simplify and expedite the labor, and, a most 
important point, there should be every facility for perfect ventila- 
tion. In the homes of the wealthy there is no good reasoi^ why the 
kitchen should not be so arranged and furnished that a cook can 
have no excuse if it and its belongings are not in perfect order. 

But for those in less favorable circumstances, the necessity for 
scrupulous neatness and order in the kitchen is still stronger. The 
occupants of second-class houses are often those who must do a 
large part if not all the work themselves. People thus situated 
have 110 time to spend in the doubtful luxury of those wasted 
days usually known as "clearing-up days." Those who find such 
days indispensable are chiefly of a class who never put any thing in 
its proper jilace for five days in the week, leaving the house in dire 
confusion till Saturday, on which day every thing is pulled from its 
hiding-place, washed, scoured, polished, and put where it really be- 
longs. So striking is the improvement that one would suppose the 
kitchen would never again be left in such confusion. But probably 
before Monday's sun has set, carelessness and misrule will have re- 
gained their empire, and, if possible, have taken unto themselves 
seven spirits worse than the first, and thus Saturday's labor will 
have been given in vain. 

There is not one servant in a hundred to whom the watchful eye 
of a neat, methodical mistress is not an imperative necessity. If the 
kitchen is made and furnished in the best known manner, it should, 
most certainly, be carefully kept; but if small, inconvenient, and 
with a limited supply of utensils, the necessity for greater neatness 
and order is of far greater importance. A famous French cook says : 
"The more inconvenient a kitchen may be, the more need of clean- 
liness,, carefulness, and plentiful supply of convenient utensils to 
simplify the labor. Cleanliness! cleanliness! the great essential in all 
cooking operations, should, at the risk of being thought over-par- 
ticular, be written in large capitals on the door of every kitchen, 
large or small." 



"WHO WILL HEED ? 

It would be amusing to listen to the comments of a circle of ladies 
on the dress of absent friends, if it were not humiliating to find how 
blind many are to their own follies, and how much weakness of 
character is evinced by the devotees of fashion. The question is 
often asked, " Why do you not speak freely of the increasing 
absurdities of fashion now before the public?" 

What good would it do ? It would be like the voice of one cry- 
ing in the wilderness, afar from the abodes of men ; breath wasted, 
time spent for naught. Have not the pulpit and press been speak- 
ing on this subject for years? and what has been the result? 
Month by month the changes in style are increasingly hideous and 
unnatural. 

If one opens a fashion magazine, were it not for the title, it 
would be difiicult to decide whether it was the " Budget of Fun," or 
"Punch," with the exaggerated deformities that are usually illus- 
trated in those comic magazines. In neither would the human form 
divine be more wretchedly distorted. Yet from these fashion-platea 
the " upper ten" modiste makes her customer's dresses. 

But, ah! those who most earnestly urge us to plain speaking-^ 
and apparently most clearly recognize the importance of reform, 
are living in glass houses, and dare not throw stones themselves. 
They recognize the reasonableness of a reform, and would gladly 
find fashion's chains less burdensome and irksome ; but without the 
moral courage to shake off" the shackles, they much prefer others 
should begin the warfare, while they look on at a safe distance, ready 
to join the ranks when the victory is won. 

Why not commence, good friends, with your own dress? Throw 
aside the frizzles, or hair fronts glued down to the forehead in fes- 
toons, or whatever French name represents the strange disfigure- 
ments that now hide many a handsome brow. Brush the hair 
smoothly, and coil it gracefully around, and once more give the 
pleasure of seeing the head as God made it. Take off the yards of 

2 (17) 



18 WHO WILL HEED* 

silk that now sweep the earth ; lay aside for better use the piles of 
lace and ribbon, the straps and puffings, and let us see the differ- 
ence between a natural figure and one called fashionable, which 
is often built up to hide some unfortunate deformity of the inventor. 
You who move in what is called fashionable society can do more 
good by such independence than can be done by the best writers 
in the world. 

The reply to such advice would come instantaneously, and with 
terrified looks: "Oh, mercy ! we wouldn't do any thing of that sort 
for the world ! To change to a more simple, natural, and less 
expensive style would be refreshing and comfortable, but we 
couldn't think of taking the initiative ; for, after all, however ab- 
surd the style, one may as well be out of the world as out of fash- 
ion, you know. Why, such singularity would make us so conspic- 
uous! We really think it would be — well, yes, quite immodest. 
No one person can, by making a martyr of herself, effect any material 
reform. It requires united effort. The change must be simulta- 
neous." 

These are cowardly arguments, and, pardon us, not truthful. 
Had all reformers reasoned in this way, what would now be the 
condition of the civilized world ? Fashion is a tyrant, and until 
women have strength of mind to defy her, resolving to be guided 
by true taste, it will be difficult, if not impossible, to find release 
from her absurdities. 

The old look sadly upon the vagaries of modern fashion ; but, by 
glancing back a score or two of years, what do they find? The 
many comic entertainments delineating "Ye Old Folks" will an- 
swer the question. To be perfectly honest, while criticising modern 
fashions, can we say with truth that they are more unnatural and 
absurd than those which the fashionable dames of the last century 
and of the early part of the present accepted and indulged in? 
Indeed, many of the most uncomfortable and ludicrous fashions of 
that period, once accepted, were continued for years by the elder 
ladies of the community. When young ladies "came out" and 
took their places in society, they were as eager in seeking the 
newest styles as we find them now. Entering into the married 
relation, and rising to the society of the matrons, for a few years 



WHO WILL HEEDf 19 

their devotion to fashion continued unabated, and her laws were 
honored by observance even when riper judgment rebelled. The 
long bodice, immense hoops, long trains, and high-heeled boots, far 
surpassing those of the present time, held them in as rigorous bond- 
age as their grandchildren yield to now. Powdered and frizzed hair 
ruled for a long time. Then it was rolled over on a pillow on the 
top of the head, and fastened with huge silver pins ; or 

" With curls on curls they build the hair before, 
And mount it with a formidable tower; 
But look behind, and then 
They dwindle to the pigmy kind." 

But fashions did not change so rapidly in olden times as they do 
now. When the tender olive branches demanded their care, and 

when 

"The table grew too small, 
And the cottage wanted room," 

Fashion was no longer the dominant power with sensible matrons. 
In olden times her devotees fell off from their allegiance earlier 
than now. The style of dress which the mother at forty wore was 
continued, with but little change, by many while their thoughts 
and devotion were given more largely to the children growing up 
about them. And as years increased and children ripened into 
maturity, the granddames, even in the best society, were often seen 
in rich attire, but fashioned after the style they wore when home 
joys took precedence of fashion. Unfortunately, sometimes their 
subjection to style stopped at a period when good taste was not the 
most prevalent, and down to very old age they continued to use 
some of the least desirable fashions. 

We have little hope that our feeble words will be accepted or re- 
ceive a moment's attention. But if those who have passed girlhood, 
and taken their places in society, can not be influenced, surely 
mothers should pause and consider the temptations they are spread- 
ing before their little girls. Little girls ! Where can we find them 
now? See how a child of four, six, eight or ten years is dressed, 
even when not preparing for some entertainment — for childish 
sports and amusements are quite too low for such overdressed, 
stylish little midgets, that now walk demurely into a room, and 



20 CONTROLLING INFANTS. 

soberly take their places on the floor, ready for a genteel dance. 
If we long to see a little girl, we must go far back into the coun- 
try — so far back that their mothers, not themselves contaminated 
by fashionable society, dress them neatly of course, but with the 
simplicity that so beautifully adorns childhood. Then, they are not 
indulged in parties, late hours, and amusements such as are depriv- 
ing our city children of the pure, sweet life of young girlhood. 
The young daughters particularly, who are indulged in overdress- 
ing, public amusements, and late hours, in visiting or receiving 
much company, are losing half the advantages our schools are offer- 
ing them. Their vanity catered to by dresses too costly and elabo- 
rate to be put on little girls, intoxicated by the excitement and 
glare of fashionable amusements and gay society, and seeing that 
their mothers' chief thoughts are given to such things, they will 
soon lose all relish for books or study, or for real, childish play, 
such as is needed to make them strong and healthy. 

If mothers will not heed these tokens, they are cheating their 
daughters of solid happiness, and burdening their own souls with a 
sin which they may not realize till old age reveals the full extent 
of the mischief caused by their negligence. 



CONTROLLING INFANTS. 

Young, conscientious mothers anxiously inquire, "How can these 
little ones be taught obedience? How can an infant be so controlled 
that it will soon (so we are often told) obey our signs, before it 
can understand our words ? " Filled with earnest desire to train their 
children perfectly, they seek advice every-where — from friends, 
from books and observation — but are not satisfied with any thing. 

These inquiries are brought us constantly, but we never have felt 
competent to answer them. We know of no uninspired book that we 
could willingly take for our own guide under similar circumstances — 
none but the parents themselves, and particularly the mother, who 
has the best opportunities of knowing her children's peculiarities, — 



FANCIED INSULTS. 21 

and evlb a mother must be governed by the distinct traits which 
each individual child develops. They can not form rules that will 
be suitable for all their children, if blessed with a goodly number. 
There is usually as great diversity of character among the members 
of one household as in the different families which compose a town 
or village. 

Even in the case of twins, although the sex may be the same — 
and outwardly they seem so perfectly alike that even the mother 
finds difBculty in distinguishing one from the other — a very few 
weeks develop traits utterly dissimilar. One may be merry, mis- 
chievous, and hard to manage ; and the other quiet, gentle and timid ; 
one passionate, selfish and unruly, and in every dispositional trait 
troublesome and disagreeable, but the other so unselfish, so sweet- 
tempered and winning, that the mother is alarmed, and sees in 
every smile sure token of early death. 

No; we are confident that books are of little service in the every- 
day practical management of children. The mother's watchful eye — 
the mother's heart, if she realizes how precious is the gift com- 
mitted to her care — is the safest guide ; and seeking the right way, 
with daily prayer she will not go far astray. 



FANCIED INSULTS. 



In close proximity to that disagreeable habit of "grumbling" 
over the small and transient discomforts which all must experience 
in some degree, stands another trouble that is made a fruitful 
source of complaint, and of which we hear much more than is 
warranted, when carefully examined. We refer to the growing 
habit of seeing, or rather imagining, insults or rudeness in every 
look, word or movement of those with whom these over-sensitive 
people are occasionally brought in contact. 

Young ladies not quite out of their teens, who in olden times 
were called young girls, are particularly in danger of allowing 
their flighty imaginations to run away with them. They often. 



22 FANCIED INSULTS. - 

under the foolishly mistaken idea that it will add to their impor- 
tance, search for something on which they can construct an advent- 
ure — however undesirable — until they see, or think they see, with 
optics sharp, those things that wiser persons never suspect or see 
the least foundation for. 

Now, mothers must be held accountable, in a large measure, for 
most of the mistakes of this kind into which their daughters fall. 
When their girls come to them with startling reports of fancied 
wrong, or insolence to Avhich they imagine they have been sub- 
jected in crossing a ferry, or in cars or omnibus, it is very unwise 
for mothers to accept the statement without a careful and rigid 
examination, and cross-examination, until a plain, quiet, unvar- 
nished recital of all the reasons which led the daughter to suppose 
an insult was intended is secured. 

We do not believe that in one case in a hundred a good, sensible 
mother will see the sliglitest foundation for her daughter's wild 
fancies. Having thoroughly sifted the story until convinced that it 
is all a delusion, if she will kindly but firmly explain the great 
necessity there is for every girl — every body indeed, old or young — 
to keep strict guard over the imagination, knowing it is always a 
safe and pleasant servant, but a treacherous and dangerous master, 
it will never, except in extreme cases, be a difficult task to subdue 
this tendency to exaggeration before it becomes established and un- 
manageable. 

It is not always the young girls or boys (for exaggeration and 
imagination are quick-growing plants, easily cultivated in both 
sexes) that see slights, rudeness and insults through magnifying 
glasses. This habit is found clear down to old age ; but we think 
when it is carried into mature age it will be found that sensible, 
judicious mothers were wanting in their childhood. 

Though ready to start into vigorous growth with children of both 
sexes, yet its repression is, if possible, more important in our girls — 
for it is almost disreputable for a woman to suppose herself in- 
sulted. Sober people are inclined to feel that there must have been 
some little imprudence, perhaps unconsciously, on the lady's part, 
which encouraged the bold step on the part of the insulter. If a 
lady is quiet, modest, and not inclined to make herself conspicuous 



FANCIED INSULTS. 23 

in public conveyance or elsewhere, by loud talking and laugnmg, 
we do not think she need fear any rude familiarity at all approach- 
ing an insult. She might travel alone with safety from one end of 
the continent to the other, as free from molestation or annoyance 
as if in her father's house. But we have often noticed with pain 
the boisterous, unladylike manner which young girls, or young 
ladies as we suppose they term themselves, indulge in when travel- 
ing or going from one part of the city to the other. If they take 
occasion to entertain each other with jests and recitals quite too 
near to coarseness in public places, is it strange that persons of the 
baser sort should feel that they were safe in taking liberties of 
speech or look that they would not dream of were their deportment 
quiet and ladylike? 

An elderly lady of our acquaintance has been called to pass from 
one part of our cities to the other very often, and in all kinds of 
conveyances has often traveled over various parts of our country 
entirely alone, but never but once ever felt, for a moment, that she 
was insulted. On this occasion, when in haste to catch a boat just 
ready to start, the man at the chain called out, as she thought, 
roughly, "Hurry up, old woman!" The look of scorn and indig- 
nation she cast upon him as she stepped aboard should have quite 
demolished him ! 

"Old woman " indeed ! She had never before heard that term 
used, or thought of it, as having any possible connection with her. 
In a most stately manner she walked through the cabin, and stood 
outside to cool off' and try to quiet the indignation she felt continu- 
ally surging up at such an — msult! She did not stop to count the 
years that had passed since her youth was an unquestioned fact. 
But the offensive term rang in her ears all the way from the boat, 
to her home as something uncalled for and rudely insulting. This 
seems very foolish and childishly weak; but she then thought she 
"did well to be angry." When, however, she reached her own 
room, and stood before the mirror, she awoke to the fact that the 
simple-hearted boatman was perfectly correct, and she was — a 
supremely foolish "old woman." 

Now, we believe that half the complaints of insults of which we 
hear so much, both in general conversation and reported in the 



24 ''IF I SHOULD BIE TO-NIGHT?' 

newspapers, if looked at soberly, would have just about as much 
reality as was fouud in this first and last insult. Let mothers 
warn their daughters against courting rudeness by bold, noisy and 
unladylike behavior, both at home and abroad, but most particu- 
larly when going to school, shopping, riding, or going to places of 
public amusement. Thus watched over by mothers, if they have 
secured their daughters' love and reverence, they will escape all 
molestation. Unless a man is insane really, or, worse, intoxicated, 
we do not believe a lady will be molested by look, word or act. But 
a woman who forgets that modesty and dehcacy of deportment are 
her true safeguard, challenges over-familiarity, rudeness and insults. 



"IF I SHOULD DIE TO-NIGHT." 

" If I should die to-night. 
My friends would look upon my quiet face 
Before they laid it in its resting-place, 
And deem that death had left it almost fair ; 
And, laying snow-white flowers against my hair, 
Would smooth it down with tearful tenderness. 
And fold my hands with lingering caress." 

It has been said that "the evil which men do live after them; 
the good is oft interred with their bones." We do not believe that 
this is generally true. It may be, in some desperate cases ; but in 
most it will be found to be just the reverse. Some one dies who, 
during mature life, was regarded as hard, grasping, and invariably 
uncharitable, '' grinding the faces of the poor ; " yet, standing by 
his coffin or speaking of his death, the very persons who most 
openly recognized his unlovely traits and unhesitatingly criticized 
them severely when living, are quick to recall many excellent acts 
that have hitherto passed unheeded. 

"Yes," they say, "no doubt he loved money, and knew well 
how to make and keep it, but we know he was the kindest person 
in his family, the most thoughtful of the interest and comfort of 



" IF I SHOULD DIE TO-NIGHT." 25 

those in his employ. It was always supposed that he never gave 
liberally ; probably he did not. But no doubt he was harassed by 
constant applications for aid, until he refused every one without 
examination. Who can wonder? And yet, in a quiet, unostenta- 
tious way, concealing from his left hand the good his right hand 
may have done, there is reason to believe that he was a benefactor 
to many who will yet rise up and call him blessed." 

Death often kindly throws a veil over imperfections or wrong- 
doing, and in that solemn hour friends look upon the quiet face, 
and deem he has " left it almost fair." 

" My friends would call to mind with tender thought 
Some kindly deed the icy hand had wrought. 
Some gentle word the frozen lips had said, 
Errands on which the willing feet had sped. 
The memory of my selfishness and pride. 
My hasty words, would all be put aside. 
And so I might be loved and mourned to-night." 

Looking thus upon the face of the dead, friends and neighbors 
who were quick to take offense — in haste to put false constructions 
on every careless act — may now in all honesty be led to examine 
their own hearts, and in the examination perhaps feel that they 
were in some degree responsible for much of the wrong-doing of 
one so soon to be hidden from their sight. 

How many acts of the departed that annoyed and provoked them, 
have these friends met with impatience and rudeness ! How sternly 
have they rebuked even trivial offenses, and angrily silenced every 
attempt at an apology ! As they stand over that still form tliey 
are compelled to ask: " Had I been kind and gentle, had I listened 
patiently to the apology, accepting it as far as could be done hon- 
estly, and afterward used what influence I may have had to point 
out the Avrong, or show how to avoid it in future, what a change 
in all the mature years, now closed, might have been effected! 
Had I been more noble, more Christ-like, how many of the mis- 
takes of my friend's last years might never have occurred! Ah! 
more kindness, more open manifestations of my real affection for 
him might have changed his whole life ; but now — too late ! " 

Yes, too late to remedy the wrong done those who have passed 



26 "IF I SHOULD DIE TO-NIGHT." 

away, but not too late for parents, brothers, sisters, and friends to 
be warned, and to profit by such self-upbraidings in those last 
moments. 

Many high-spirited children are ruined by the impatience of 
those who were set to guide and guard them, or by sharp rebukes 
or stinging ridicule, when standing just at that critical moment 
where patience and gentle affection could have piloted them safely 
past the breakers, and guided them into still waters. How many 
who should have been noble men and women, for lack of skillful 
guidance in early life, if they reach the "farther shore" in safety, 
are "saved so as by fire?" 

Parents and friends are often neglectful of the many little things 
by which they could soften and refine the characters, or make 
happy and useful the lives of those who grow up under their guid- 
ance and influence. But it is only while they are with us that in- 
fluence or afiection has any effect. It may do us good to rouse up 
to a kindly and charitable interpretation of our friends when we 
stand by their coffins, but our love and grief or late repentance can 
no longer benefit them. Oh! leave not all the manifestations of 
affection and just appreciation of their good qualities to that hour, 
when for them it. will be all a vain show ! We do not know — we 
can not imagine without the most careful and earnest watchfulness — 
how many hearts silently ache for some tangible evidence of love 
and interest, or how in secret troubles and trials, in seasons of great 
bitterness of spirit, such demonstrations would give strength and 
courage to persevere, and bring comfort and joy unspeakable. 

" Oh, friends ! I pray to-night, 
Keep not your kisses for my dead, cold brow ; 
The way is lonely — let me feel them now. 
Think gently of me ; I am travel-worn. 

My faltering feet are pierced by many a thorn ; 
When dreamless rest is mine I shall not need 
The tenderness for which I long to-night." 



KIND WORDS. 27 



KIND WORDS. 

Acts of kindness, words of love or approbation, if honest and 
true, are the cheapest comforts in the world. They cost the giver 
nothing, but their value to the recipient can not be estimated, and 
nowhere is their influence so magical as when they fall upon those 
who are overburdened with hard labor and many cares. They 
come to the weary like refreshing slumber; they cover the unfin- 
ished labors of the day, that a moment before seemed insupportable 
burdens or cruel tasks, with verdure and blossoms. A gentle 
word, a slight touch passing caressingly over the bowed head, or 
lingering a moment on the weary hand, what pov/er it has! How 
the crooked places become straight; the burdens light as empty 
air ; the severe tasks pleasant labors, and the step so weary and 
faltering regains vigor and elasticity — for love has lightened labor. 

An old song gives a picture, true to nature, of the power of 
kindness on those engaged in the most common labor of life. The 
farmer's wife rose one morning, and before her came trooping 
thoughts of all the work to be done that day. Not taking each 
duty separately, as it must approach her in natural order, she 
made the mistake so common to overworked, anxious Marthas, 
"careful and troubled about much serving," of looking at it all at 
once. The huge pile of clothes to be washed, the dozen or more 
mouths to be fed*, the children to "be fixed off to school," the milk 
to be skimmed, the cream to be churned — and all this "to be done 
in a day." 

"And the day was hot, and her aching head 
Throbbed wearily as she said, 
* If maidens but knew what good wives know, 
They would be in no haste to wed.' " 

While thus looking at life and its duties through the dark clouds 
of discontent and fatigue, the husband, passing near her, stopped, 
and stooping down, smiling, kissed her cheek, saying : 

"'Jennie! you are the best and dearest wife in town.'" 

A simple act ; but mark its power : 



28 KIND WORDS. 

" The farmer passed on to the field; and the wife, 

In a smiling, absent way, 
Sang snatches of tender little songs 

She'd not sung for many a day. 
And the pain in her head was gone, and the clothes 

Were white as the foam of the sea; 
Her bread was light, and her gutter was sweet, 

And as golden as it could be ! " 

When the children came home from school they told how one of 
their schoolmates, whose parents' unkindness made his home most 
wretched, had "run off to sea." 

" ' He wouldn't, we know, if he only had had 
As happy a home as we.' " 

" And the good wife smiled 
To herself, as she softly said, 
' 'Tis so sweet to labor for those who love, 
No wonder that maidens will wed.' " 

Now, these homely verses teach a lesson which, if fully compre- 
hended, would ward off much misery, and bring light on many 
homes over which heavy clouds are settling. Homes founded under 
the most favorable circumstances are often gj-adually filled with dis- 
content and repining, especially when daily bread must be earned 
by the sweat of the brow, and chiefly because the heads of those 
homes do not understand that love is the lever by which the 
heavy burdens are to be lifted, and the expression of it the fulcrum 
by which it is sustained and enabled to carry the hardest loads 
easily; and as the lever loses half its power without this prop, so 
if we are- carrying heavy burdens by exhaustive efforts, they can be 
made light and easy by the aid of " little deeds of kindness, little 
words of love." A dumb love is not easily interpreted, or of suffi- 
cient value to make labor a pleasure ; but when it expresses itself 
by words and acts, it polishes the rusty spots, brightens the dark 
places, lubricates every part of life's machinery, making it run 
smoothly. These simple tokens sweeten the sour-tempered, cheer 
the desponding, enliven the irritable, and unite husbands and wives, 
parents and children, brothers and sisters, in bonds that no bur- 
dens, no trials, no discomforts will have power to sunder. 

This same doctrine holds good in mental as well as in physical 



HOTEL LIFE. 29 

troubles and burdens. When heavy affliction befalls us, and the 
heart is well-nigh broken; when the darkness settles like a pall 
over us, who can do us any good ? No kindness or gentleness can 
bring back our dead ; no tenderness can take away the many sharp 
trials that must come sooner or later to all. But loving deeds, a 
few tender words, not obtrusive or ostentatious, although at first 
weak and apparently of no avail, have a hidden, a healing power 
directed and inspired by the Author of love himself. 

If parents will teach this doctrine both by precept and example 
to their children, they will surely lay the foundation of peace and 
happiness for their household. The high and the low, the rich and 
the poor, alike need to ponder over this lesson. Eiches by no means 
insure happiness, nor can they make peaceful homes; neither can 
the rigors of poverty destroy all the blessedness of homes, if, at the 
beginning, love laid the foundation thereof. 



HOTEL LIFE. 



Every hotel in our country can be made a pleasant, comfortable 
resting-place for the weary traveler for a few hours, or an enjoya- 
ble, home-like abode when business demands a sojourn of weeks or 
months ; but instead of this, except perhaps in what are called 
"first-class hotels," how often one enters them with an instinctive 
protest, and with ill-concealed reluctance. No good reason can be 
produced by the proprietors why all this discomfort should not be 
remedied. Even in new settlements, however rough the building 
or simple the fare, cleanliness at least can be secured, if those who 
manage the establishment so will it. Wherever soap and water are 
found, or can be obtained, a dirty house, half-washed, damp and 
poorly ironed table-linen, or sticky, damp bed-linen are always in- 
excusable. Wherever there is custom sufficient to warrant a hotel, 
there must be water enough to secure a comfortable state of cleanli- 
ness. From necessity the table-linen may, in many places, be 
coarse, but that does not prevent its being white, clean, well ironed 



30 HOTEL LIFE. 

and perfectly aired, before it is put on the table. Few things cause 
one to turn from the table with such loathing, even before any food 
is put on it, as to lay the hand on a spotted napkin, yellow, as if 
dipped in saffron water, and so damp as to make the flesh creep. 
For this there is no excuse so long as there is water to cleanse, 
God's bright sun and pure fresh air and wind to sweeten, bleach 
and purify all the linen needed in a hotel. Travelers, who pay high 
prices without grumbling, have just ground for complaint when 
compelled to eat at tables, or sleep in beds where the laundress is 
not held strictly to her duty in these particulars. 

Then in the matter of food — our landlords make a great mistake. 
Few people have so fair a chance to saintship as those in this class 
of business, if they will but take the proper steps to secure that 
honor. It can be obtained with so little extra expense or trouble 
if they will but understand what their customers have a right to 
demand, and be prompt and careful in meeting these reasonable 
requirements. Because one lives in the country, perhaps a new 
settlement, and while it is being developed and built must be denied 
access to many of these delicacies that are easily procured in the 
older cities, and compelled to exercise strict economy, can he not, 
by neat and careful cooking, compensate for the lack of luxuries, 
and make plain food quite as palatable and far more wholesome 
than the fancy dishes — with foreign names — which load the more 
fashionable hotels? 

Suppose that the rush of passengers on the incoming trains, with 
only "twenty minutes for refreshments," taxes the agility, self- 
possession and promptness of the proprietors and attendants to the 
uttermost, a thorough system of arranging and bringing in the food 
will, after a few experiments, simplify and lighten the labor, bring- 
ing order out of confusion. Every housekeeper knows, or ought 
to, that it takes less time to make a good cup of coffee or broil a 
steak or chop to perfection than to spoil it through want of judg- 
ment and skill. How nicely cooked food at a railrord restaurant, 
or depot hotel, cheers and refreshes the jaded or half-sick traveler, 
and how the reverse disheartens and disappoints him, none can so 
well imagine as those who have had experience in both sides of this 
question. 



HOTEL LIFE. 31 

How often have we seen a pale, delicate-looking traveler pass 
hastily to the table and call for a cup of hot tea or coflee, or hot 
chop, telling her friends, "I shall feel like a new being when I 
have taken some refreshment ; " but when it is set before her and 
tasted, who can wonder that she turns from it with a piteous look 
of disappointment and discouragement? 

Because there are but "twenty minutes for refreshments," or 
because circumstances compel plain and simple food, is it necessary 
that the coffee should be sttile and muddy? If any fresh coffee is 
used, is it very much more economical to add it to coffee-grounds that 
have already done service to several different trains, thus spoiling 
what might have been a good cup of coffee for the sake of getting 
a little more strength or color out of the old dregs ? If, perchance, 
a little is saved, is it honest? Was not the pay sufficiently liberal 
to compensate for a fresh cup? The simplest food, if cooked with 
care and neatly served, will be eaten with wonderful relish and 
grateful thanks by the weary traveler. 

There are very many ways of making delicious soup out of frag- 
ments that would be worthless for any other purpose. Such soups 
are very economical, and nothing can be more easily prepared or 
made more agreeable and nourishing, A good bowl of hot soup, 
freed from fat and well seasoned, is the most grateful to a weary, 
delicate traveler of any kind of food ; but the soup which is offered 
at most saloons and "eating-houses" is too often a composition that 
should be spoken of with "bated breath." 

Of late years in a large proportion of the saloons and hotels, 
bread and biscuit are less objectionable than most of the food, 
though there are quite enough sad exceptions. But what bene- 
factors, how honored and revered, our landloids have it in their 
power to become! And it is not a hard thing that they are asked 
to do. How simple are the efforts which long-suffering travelers 
or guests ask of them ! To be sure, the sins of ignorance must be 
winked at ; but Americans are such a restless people, flying from 
east to west, from north to south, like a mighty rushing wind, and 
this peculiarity is so steadily on the increase, that the demand for 
neat, comfortable hotels and properly prepared food is fast becom- 
ing an imperative necessity. In our grand western country, with 



32 HOTEL LIFE. 

its wonderful productiveness, there is no possible reason why the 
food, however simple, should not be the best, and cooked and served 
in the neatest manner. 

Look at the immense fields of barley, wheat, corn and potatoes, 
the poultry, the droves of sheep and the cattle — if not "on a thou- 
sand hills," on at least thousands of acres of these rich prairie lands — 
eggs, milk, butter; what is wanted to make this the epicure's para- 
dise but the knowledge of how to use these good gifts? 

We would recommend a few weeks' experience of the discomforts 
in traveling — which spring from ignorance and carelessness — to 
those who think we are, and have been, needlessly urgent for moth- 
ers to realize the vital importance of a perfect domestic education 
for their daughters, if they would insure them a happy and useful 
life. We believe the time is not far distant, but we wish we could 
hasten it, when the "Household Department" will rank as high in 
our female seminaries and colleges as "painting, drawing, music, 
and the languages," and that in all schools for girls, the teachers 
will be required to prepare them in the rudimentary parts of this 
department, as faithfully as in the first lessons of "reading, writ- 
ing and arithmetic," and that to pass a successful examination in 
this branch of tneir education, will be as necessary for admittance 
to a higher grade, as in any other portion of their studies. So keenly 
do we feel the importance of this addition to the numerous branches 
thought indispensable to a young girl's finished education in this 
advanced age, that we would, to secure this point, be almost will- 
ing to go on a lecture tour ourself ! Nothing could be a more con- 
clusive indorsement of our earnestness on this subject than that. 

But before this consummation, so devoutly longed for, can be 
eflfected, many of our teachers will find it necessary to go through 
a full course of practical study themselves to become competent to 
teach the first rudiments of household economy. Parents are at 
great expense to give their daughters a most elaborate education 
in the highest schools and colleges. They are proud of their grow- 
ing attainments; and when, after long years of close study, the}'' 
graduate with perhaps the highest honors, and it may be with im- 
paired health from over-study, the. fond parents feel that they have 
done all that they could for their daughters. If in affluent circum- 



HOTEL LIFE. 33 

stances, they may never be roused to understand how little the 
children have acquired of practical, useful knowledge, or how utterly 
incapable they are of using what they have learned. 

Not long since we were told of a young lady who, on graduating, 
took the first honors as a brilliant scientific and chemical scholar. 
She was preparing to teach, or intending in some way to turn her 
education to pecuniary profit. She was supposed to be thorough 
in chemistry; but when required to give a practical demonstration 
of this knowledge, to put it to the test in common every-day affairs, 
she was as helpless as a child. She had at her tongue's end the 
rules. The nomenclature of chemisty was perfectly familiar ; but 
why such terms were used, what they really signified, was to her 
an unknown tongue. Unhappily this superficial education is very 
common. What is now needed is to be sure that our primary 
teachers are competent to instruct our little girls in a practical 
manner in the first true principles of domestic economy, and that 
mothers cooperate in this part of their daughters' education, keep- 
ing a sharp watch that the teacher is in earnest in her instruction. 
If this important part is once made to go hand in hand with what 
is called the "higher branches," young ladies' schools and colleges, 
of the best type will be multiplied, and our daughters educated 
near home, where the mother can watch over the health and prac- 
tical improvement of her girls. Every thing marches on rapidly 
in our country, and if this union of practical and literary education 
is set in operation, it will spread all over the land. Once secure 
such serviceable knowledge for our girls, and it will never die out. 
Then the housekeepers and mothers furnished by the rising genera- 
tion will understand how abundant provision ani choice material 
may be wisely used, not wasted through lack of knowledge and 
skill to prepare them in the most agreeable and healthful manner; 
and through them we may hope for that good time coming, when 
our hotels, even the simplest, will be oases of delightful rest for 
the weary, with tables neatly furnished and amply supplied with 
tempting food to make glad the heart of the wanderer. But even 
the present accommodations are a vast improvement upon our 
experience of forty years ago. 



34 SUPERNATURAL WARNINGS. 



SUPERNATURAL WARNINGS. 

In social gatherings some of the guests are often inclined to 
amuse and entertain the company by recounting some of the won- 
derful "signs" or "omens" which the ignorant and superstitious 
of the olden times regarded as sent from above to guide them in the 
right way — or Avayn them of impending danger. Indeed, it is not 
alone those who can be classed with the ignorantly superstitious, 
who are influenced by these tokens, even if in their hearts they are 
not aware of an undefined faith in them. Yet one will notice, if 
in a large company, accidentally thrown together, these relics of 
bygone days are discussed without premeditation, scarcely two out 
of ten give the same interpretation. One speaks of an ancient 
superstition handed down from his ancestors as a "bad sign"; but 
another will instantly reply, 

"Oh, no! I was always told that was a 'good sign.'" 

It is seldom that a housekeeper can persuade a servant, particu- 
larly if she is Irish, to begin her work in a new place on a Friday, 
no matter how urgent the case may be ; but they are perfectly will- 
ing to come Saturday. Sailors, however, think Friday the best 
time to start on a voyage; yet are not quite satisfied if they leave 
the shore Saturday. They are sure it will be an unlucky voyage. 

A few days since we heard three little girls talking in the cars. 
One took off her glove, and her companion exclaimed, as she took 
up her hand : 

"Oh, Minnie! Look at the white specks on your nails. They 
are covered with them. What a naughty girl you must be ! " said 
she, laughing merrily. 

"Why? My mother says those specks are a sign I have bruised 
the nail a little. Is there any thing naughty in that ? " 

"My grandmother says," replied the first, "when she sees them on 
my nails, that they never come unless I have told a lie ; and do 
you know I think she really believes I have ? But I know there 
isn't a word of truth in it." 

"Well,' said the third, "I guess these 'signs' are all nonsense. 



SUPERNATURAL WARNINGS. 35 

I am often told by others, if a white speck comes on my nails it's ' a 
sign of good luck.' But mamma always tells me to be a good girl 
and pay no attention to these silly 'signs.'" 

We knew a young lady whose engagement ring broke on her 
finger while she lay dangerously ill. Among many to this day that 
is a sure sign of speedy death. If the young lady's mother had not 
taught her more sensible lessons, and at the moment of this occur- 
rence enforced them by her own cheerful remarks as she picked up 
the fragments, the little accident, coming when the young girl was 
ill, might have had serious effects. But she is an old lady now, 
and has taught her children to give no heed to the many supersti- 
tions that even now are repeated to children without their parents' 
knowledge by servants, and many others who should have more sense. 

We have watched with the sick who would become almost wild if 
a dog howled near their window, or an owl was heard at night near 
the house. 

We were once most solemnly urged by a nice old lady to swallow 
the first tooth which one of our children lost, because if we did not 
the child would never have any new growth of teeth ! Was there 
ever any thing more absurd ? And yet it is not many years since 
this advice was given, and by one who, in every other respect, was 
wise and sensible. We have heard this often repeated by nurse- 
girls from the old country. 

One of our children having the whooping-cough, a German 
woman insisted that the child should be held by the feet face down- 
Avard, and cough in each comer of the room, beginning at the north 
and ending at the east corner, and then there would be no danger 
of the child's dying ! 

"When a mouse gnaws a dress, some misfortune will follow." 
Of course. The dress — and that is misfortune enough — is injured, 
and must be mended. 

"Before moving into a new house, bread and a new broom must 
be sent in the first thing, or the owners will be unlucky ! " 

There is no end to these absurdities, and we only notice them to 
put parents, mothers particularly, on their guard, so that if such 
"signs" are told their children, they may make haste to counter- 
act any wrong impression which a young child may receive, by 



36 SUPERNATURAL WARNINGS. 

showing the absurdity of it. It is much more common than is 
generally known, for mothers to repeat such foolish things without 
giving the antidote, if, indeed, they have not themselves brought 
down from their grandmothers' stories, some small superstitions, 
which so far influence their own minds that they are not quite 
ready to prevent them from taking root in their children's. But 
it is from the nurses, to whose care our young children are too often 
committed, that the most permanent mischief comes. Most of that 
class have firm faith in many of these "signs," and are not slow in 
indoctrinating the little ones in their charge into the same belief; 
and for that reason chiefly we call attention to the evil. 

Many of these superstitions may do our children no harm, only 
so far as it is a mistake to allow a young child's mind to be filled 
with such trash ; but a large proportion of the lessons taught by 
illiterate and imaginative nurses, take root and have an injurious 
influence, of which the mother has no idea. The timidity which 
many little ones manifest, and which often is a torment to them 
through life, could be traced back to the wild ghost stories of their 
nurses, which are usually authenticated by some " omen." " We 
knew," they tell the children, "this terrible thing would happen, 
because we saw or heard certain things that betoken just such trou- 
bles or accidents," and this "sign" is remembered by the child 
thereafter. 

Almost every child who is afraid in the dark has been made so 
from very early years by some "sign" born from darkness, or fear- 
ful story of which that " sign" was the forerunner. When a mother 
finds her child is afraid in the dark, she may be sure that some- 
thing has been told the child that has created this fear, or that she 
herself has been injudicious in talking to the little folks. The 
sooner she counteracts this influence and overcomes the fear, the 
better for the child. No one but those who have suflfered from such 
fears can imagine all the horrors that a timid child sees in the dark. 
Judicious, gentle, loving parents are the best physicians for such 
diseases ; and to keep them close by the mother's side, or, if a nurse 
is absolutely necessary, to keep close watch of her mode of talking 
to the children, is the best preventive. 



NOW AND THEN. 37 



NOW AND THEN. 



In allualng to some of the discomforts which travelers are sub- 
jected to, we by no means lost sight of the great changes in our 
hotels that have been in progiess the last thirty or forty years. We 
had in mind not the palatial hotels found in many of our large cities, 
which afford the most luxurious liomes or resting places for many, 
but those that are now scattered all over the country in the line of 
raih'oad travel. Of course there are many honorable exceptions 
even in some of the smallest of these, and very marked improve- 
ment in some of the most objectionable, compared to some experi- 
ences which we can recall; and in all, as a rule, the comfort or 
dit^comfort of a hotel depends more on the landlady than any one 
else. 

In many of the towns that have sprung up like magic in our new 
Western States, the landladies have come from New England, New 
York or Pennsylvania, and were trained to do or see that their 
work was neatly and carefully done. Such housekeepers bring 
to these new States their old habits of economy and thorough neat- 
ness, which are invaluable. A few days since we were told by a 
landlady in one of the new towns in Nebraska: 

"I am very strict in demanding that all food shall be as carefully 
prepared, and as nicely served to our guests as for our own private 
table. Then, to be secured from the danger of vermin which this 
constant change of guests may bring upon us, I, myself, go with 
my chambermaids, after each room is vacated, and see that the 
mattress and bedstead are examined and thoroughly cleansed and 
aired, before another occupant arrives. I not only give the order 
for this work, but stand by to help or see that it is well and faith- 
fully executed. We can not have the best of every thing out here 
just now, but we have no excuse if we do not keep clean. I do not 
believe a bug can be found in my bouse." 

We shall ever remember our clean toom at this hotel, and think 
of the landlady with grateful respect; fully agreeing with her that 
no house can be so common Or poor, even in our youngest settlements, 
that it may not be kept sweet and clean and free from vermin, if 



38 NOW AND THEN. 

the mistress's eyes are over all the work. The landlady, much 
more than the landlord, decides the character of a hotel, as far as 
the comfort to be looked for in it is concerned. 

In our present journey through the prairies of Minnesota, Iowa 
and Nebraska, up through the strangely weird desolations of the 
buttes or bluffs, along some of the highest points of the Rocky 
Mountains, through which the enterprising proprietors of the Union 
Pacific Railroad have forced a way, we could not refrain from notic- 
ing the great improvement in the hotels along our route, as com- 
pared with some we remember thirty-five or forty years ago. To 
be sure, in a great measure the difference can be accounted for from 
the fact that in those days the "stage" was the only public con- 
veyance, except on the rivers, and that was not of daily occurrence. 
The newly opened parts of the country were usually crossed by 
emigrant wagons or private vehicles, and as these came on no fixed 
days the " taverns," or places of " entertainment for man and beast," 
were "few and far between." Knowing that calls to feed and lodge 
travelers were not frequent, the pioneer settlers, who were living 
in the roughest manner, could not keep large supplies on hand ; and ■ 
if they could, were not very skillful in preparing it in the choicest 
manner. Far removed from any refining influences, the women, 
hard workers with very limited ideas of what would be comfortable 
or attractive to travelers from the older States, could hardly be 
expected to furnish very attractive food or the most comfortable 
accommodations — but they could have been neat. Then Minne- 
sota, Kansas, Iowa, Nevada, Nebraska and Colorado were un- 
known regions, where the Indian, bison and elk roamed undisputed 
masters. 

We remember, with a sense of discomfort even now, a journey 
nearly forty years ago across some of the Illinois prairies, then 
very sparsely inhabited by the white man. In feeble health, with 
two small children — one a nursing baby — we passed over many 
miles of prairie land, in a private carriage, with not a few laugh- 
able experiences. At first the long sweep of level country was a 
pleasant and novel sight ; the broad stripes of wild flowers reaching 
as far as the eye could distinguish, each color as separate and dis- 
tinct, red, white, purple or gold, as if the land was one enormous 



NOW AND THEN. 39 

patch-work bed-spread, such as our grandmothers delighted to put 
together. Now and then this scene, which soon grew monotonous,^ 
was relieved by a herd of wild deer bounding off on either side as 
we came near, or by being forced to fight the horse-flies and mos- 
quitoes that at times came upon us like the plagues of Egypt, and 
made our poor horses well-nigh frantic. No well-defined road lay 
before us, but we were guided by the sun across the unbroken flat, 
while here and there a " slew-Jwle," or mud-basin, marked by rails 
scattered about or sticking out of the mud, Avarned us to turn away 
from a spot where some unfortunate traveler's team had been 
"stalled" and he compelled to rob the fences, to pry his wagon and 
horses from the deep mud -pit into which he had unwarily sunk. 
We tried that experiment a few times, and while the head of the 
house borrowed the rails to lift the wheels, we, with the baby in 
one hand, held the horses at the head with the other, to encourage 
and guide them when the wheels began to move, making laughable 
jum2:)S from one bit of peat to the next, to save both mother and 
child from being di'awn under the horses' feet in their brave 
efforts to get out. 

After riding eighteen, twenty, or sometimes twenty-five miles 
with such experiences, not seeing a house or human being, one can 
imagine with what delight we hailed the first glimpses of ^Himber,'* 
a sure sign that we were approaching a river, where would doubt- 
less be found a village — that is, a tavern, town hall, meeting- 
house, and, perhaps, a school-house, with three or four small 
houses. For a wonder, one evening, coming to the timber, we 
found two places for the "entertainment of man and beast;" one,, 
a small log-house, and across the way a large two-story new house I 
How could we resist the temptation to stop at this imposing build- 
ing instead of the inferior affair opposite? But, "mistaken souls, 
who dream of bliss!" the landlord, with four untidy daughters, 
was at the door, and ushered us into large, barn-like looking rooms, 
unfinished, and altogether disgusting in the whole general appear- 
ance. There was a large hole under the mantel where a fire-place 
was to be made — some time; but the daughters did their cooking 
outdoors right under this opening. Several pans of milk were on 



40 NOW AND THEN. 

the mantel, and were thoroughly covered with the ashes from the 
fire underneath. 

After the horses were well attended to and strict orders given 
about feeding them, we were called to supper. No pen can de- 
scribe that table. The table-cloth !— words fail. Biscuits of the 
color of putty, and as heavy ; some fried ham, boiled eggs and a 
cup of tea. Pouring some milk, well colored with ashes, into the 
hot tea, it rose in a thick curd and was set aside. 

"Don't be notional; make the best of it; try a boiled egg," said 
our philosophical better half. We obeyed ; but, breaking it, found 
more chicken than egg inside of the shell. 

"Well, never mind; don't stop to think of it; do as I do ; eat 
some of this ham; it is quite good; see," and, drawing his knife 
bravely across it, found he had carved a huge cockroach that was 
under the ham. 

It is a pity that the very peculiar expression on the good man's 
face couldn't have been preserved, when, hastily rising from that 
table, he quietly remarked, "I'll go and see how the horses are 
faring, and you had better get the children off to bed." But he 
soon returned with the cheering information that a stupid boy had 
fed Charley with green corn, and the poor beast was very sick, add- 
ing, " And there will be no stage by here to take us on, if Charley 
dies, for two days." 

After working over the suffering animal till midnight, he was 
pronounced better, and a little sleep was now to be arranged for. 
Sleep! The tossing, moaning children needed all our care — one 
very ill from eating of the putty biscuits, and the baby to be pro- 
tected from the bugs. But the father was going " to bed and to 
sleep anyhow. We were not, most decidedly. In an hour or two 
the disturbed slumbers of this most resolute man were so marked 
that we stepped with a lighted candle to his side. It is no exag- 
geration to say that there were long lines of black pilgrims passing 
up and down his pillow and across his hands and arms, and with a 
hastily uttered "The Philistines be upon you! wake up!" he 
roused, and instantly "taking in the situation," sprung from the 
bed, saying, "Wake and dress the children. If Charley has but 
three legs to stand on, we will leave this place immediately." 



NOW AND THEN. 41 

We were soon on our way by moonlight over the pathless prai- 
ries, and by sunrise had made eighteen miles, and came to the next 
settlement. A one-story, unpainted log-house was pointed out as 
the " tavern," and faint with fatigue, lack of food and sleep, with 
many fears, we stopped. A neat, motherly German woman came 
to the door and took the baby from us, and her husband, equally 
nice-looking, took charge of the horses. Shall we ever forget the 
luxury of rest — the comfort found in that simple dwelling? And 
was ever breakfast so delicious? Every thing which that dear old 
lady set before us — so sweet, so clean and well cooked ! 

We have forgotten time and space in recalling this incident ; but 
our object was to prove that no matter how far removed from older 
settlements, how simple or how poorly provided those may be who 
pretend to cater for the comfort or accommodation of travelers, 
there are none too humble to be able to keep clean or prepare the 
coarsest food in an acceptable manner. There could scarcely be 
more primitive or less seemingly inviting accommodation than this 
poor German man and woman had to offer, but their cheery good- 
nature and simple neatness made that rest and breakfast a bright 
spot to look back to after nearly forty years, while that imposing 
two-story building is never remembered but with a shudder. 

There is one other important point that we wished to bring into 
notice, but fear we have lingered too long over the days of our 
youth. While one need not fear in these days falling into such a 
trap as our Okaw two-story tavern, and while we recognize with 
thankfulness the great improvements of the present time, we are 
compelled to say that the "outbuildings," "saloons," or "water- 
closets" — by whatever name they are called — are, in almost all but 
the palace hotels, nuisances that should come under the closest 
supervision of the health officers, if there are no higher powers to 
take cognizance of their vile condition. It is a mercy if sufficient 
care is taken of them to prevent the whole house from being 
tainted. These places are enough to send the cholera — or some 
other fearful epidemic — all over the towns where they are. And 
there is no possible excuse for permitting this evil to exist, no mat- 
ter if the building be six stories high or only a one-story log-house. 
In large hotels there should be a most thorough system of sewerage 



42 ^ DO UNTO OTHERS, ETC. 

and ventilation, and the basins be well washed every day with 
strong boiling hot suds or lye, and carbolic powder, or other dis- 
infectants, used plentifully. If the sewerage is properly constructed, 
these closets can be perfectly drained and the contents pass by large 
tiles under ground, and be carried off beyond all chance of offense. 

In smaller houses fine earth should be thrown down or shoveled 
into the large box underneath, through the day and at night. This 
box, which should be zinc-lined, with two large hooks on the back 
to which ropes or chains may be attached, can be dragged away by 
horses and dumped into the compost, heap or manure-pits. If 
earth is plentifully used through the day, all offensive odors will be 
destroyed. The box, before being replaced, should be well sprinkled 
with lime or carbolic powder. One half hour's labor of this sort 
will do the work. 

In this manner, where no more elaborate arrangements can be 
made, any house may be kept free from the great annoyance which 
makes these accommodations the terror of any respectable class of 
travelers. The box and earth arrangement is on the general prin- 
ciple of the excellent "Wakefield earth closets." Where these 
closets can be procured they are the cleanest and least troublesome 
of the many patents that we have ever heard of. They are not ex- 
pensive, and if the proprietors of small hotels would place them in 
their houses they could very cheaply rank with public benefactors. 



*'D0 UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD THEY 
SHOULD DO UNTO YOU." 

If this injunction were more strictly regarded in all the relations 
of life, the world would, every-where, grow brighter, and many 
hearts now sad and repining would send up to heaven songs of 
gratitude and joy. But unhappily, even where love most abounds, 
innate selfishness is so hidden in the human heart that those who 
are under its influence and dominion are unconscious, or blinded to 



DO UNTO OTHERS, ETC. 43 

the ungracious effect it has on their own characters and on that 
of those belonging to them, as well as on their daily actions. 

We desire to call attention to its effects upon the habits and 
manners of people when out from under the restraints of home and 
friends. We have ventured to speak somewhat at length of the in- 
felicities and discomforts experienced in hotels, and therefore it is 
but just that we examine both sides of the question. By so doing, 
it may be found that the fault is not altogether on one side. It 
is possible that landlords may wake up to the knowledge that they 
have some rights to be respected as well as their guests, and learn 
to feel that they are subject to some little needless vexations from 
the carelessness, selfishness, and unscrupulous conduct of their pat- 
rons, especially from their transient customers. 

Tue causes that heretofore have led to the discomfort and vexa- 
tion of travelers, by lack of cleanliness in the house, and ignorance 
in preparing the table comforts, so important for those that are 
weary, have greatly diminished of late years, as machinery and skill 
have simplified the labor once necessary to the performance of many 
of those duties. With this improvement in neatness and attention 
on the part of the caterers for public comfort, are there any indica- 
tions that the change has been reciprocal ? Now, we can not under- 
stand why persons who are exceedingly careful and neat at home 
should not be so when they stop, perhaps only for a night, at a 
public house. If one is not neat and methodical for the love of it — 
because he can not be quite comfortable without it — his neatness is 
not much more than a mushroom growth, and practiced simply for 
the credit it may give in other people's estimation. Yet how little 
of it is seen in those who, on a journey, must depend upon hotels 
for comfort! They complain bitterly of the lack of cleanliness in 
others, or in those paid to wait on them, and who endeavor to be 
always ready to gratify their whims. These public servitors give 
of their best efforts according to their knowledge. If they find their 
guests careless and reckless in their manners while with them, un- 
tidy in their rooms, troublesome at the table by their assumption of 
independence and selfishness, why should they (the landlords) sup- 
pose that order and neatness are of any consequence? 

Is it doing unto others as we would that they should do unto us. 



44 DO UNTO OTHERS, ETC. 

to throw dusty, perhaps wet, shawls, overcoats, and carpet-bags on 
the bed, instead of putting them in suitable places, as one Avould 
do at home ? A carpet-bag that has been put on the floor of dirty- 
cars is not a suitable thing to put on a clean white bed-spread. At 
home such an act would not be tolerated any more than to lie down 
on the outside of the bed with the boots on. And yet there seems 
no natural neatness which withholds travelers from doing all these 
untidy things in the rooms they occupy in a hotel. 

Then, at a public table, how many call for half or all the items 
on the bill of fare, well knowing they can barely taste of each — it 
may not be even that — but their plates will be loaded with every 
variety, and sent away piled up with food that they could not want, 
but which is ruined by being mixed with a dozen other things. 

There are many unkind remarks made of the composition or in- 
gredients put in the hashes, stews, soups, etc., at hotels and board- 
ing-houses. Is it strange that the landladies are unwilling to throw 
away such quantities of almost untasted food, as are found mingled 
together on the plates when removed from the table? If the next 
morning's hash or stew has some curious flavors mingled together, 
the guests have themselves to blame for it, and have no just 
grounds for complaint. 

Then, again, the habit of fault-finding in the hearing of the wait- 
ers, making rude remarks in their presence about the landlord, 
house or table is, to say the least, not in good taste any more 
than the habit of ringing the bell and calling the waiter every five 
minutes for the most trivial things. Many seem to study to find 
occasions to bring the weary attendants to their rooms, and that 
certainly is not doing as they would that others should do unto 
them. One seldom occupies a hotel-room without seeing marks all 
about the room, left by some thoughtless, selfish guests, which they 
never would have been guilty of at home. Ink on the table or 
carpet, or, it may be, on the curtains or towels; or tables, chairs, 
and bureaus chipped with a restless whittler's penknife, or marked 
and defaced with a pencil. When we go to a hotel it may be wise 
to bear in mind that much which annoys one in the way of stained 
table-linen, spotted curtains or towels or badly soiled carpets, may 
not, after all, be so much the fault of the landlord as of his guests. 



THE LOTTERY OF LIFE. 45 

"VVe have but hinted at a very few of the thoughtless acts of 
travelers which indicate that the command to do unto others as we 
would that they should do unto us is too often forgotten, or not 
felt to be binding, in our relations with those of our fellow-beings 
■who devote themselves to the thankless office of providing food and 
shelter for the traveler. It would increase the comfort and happi- 
ness of all who must depend on these public resting-places often, 
to take with them a little of the neatness and order, the attention 
to the interest and comfort of others, which, it is to be hoped, they 
practice in their own homes. 



THE LOTTERY OF LIFE. 

"Think not, the maiden gained, that all is done: 
The prize of happiness must yet be won." 

If young people more truly interpreted the obligations and re- 
sponsibilities of marriage, they would not so thoughtlessly assume 
its relations. If parents, or less indulgent friends, could induce 
them to think with less excitement and more soberly of the duties 
as well as the pleasures of married life, how much more of unfad- 
ing brightness would glorify this fair earth! how much more of 
the true home — its rest, its joys, its unselfish love — would bless and 
abide in it ! But with little thought and less realization of its true 
meaning, hundreds rush into marriage as if only preparing for a 
picnic or a pleasure excursion. They are so sure they love one 
another ; and seeing life only in rosy tints, they laugh at any pru- 
dential caution, and repel any earnest effort to teach them to un- 
derstand the mutual responsibilities that the contemplated union 
will bind upon them. 

The lover sees only perfection, sweetness and beauty in the maiden 
who he imagines has every qualification to make his home a little 
heaven ; and in her estimation his love is to be her tower of strength — 
a safe refuge from every storm ; and, thus surrounded and guarded 
by his tender care, she fears no evil, shrinks from no hardship. In 



46 TEE LOTTERY OF LIFE. 

his present ecstatic state he can not imagine that her estimate of 
what his devotion is always to be, can possibly be overdrawn. 

Now, what do they really know of each other ? During courtship 
and engagement, with perhaps no intention to deceive or wear a 
holiday face, all the best points of their characters are in the ascend- 
ancy. Ah ! if lovers would bring a little common sense to their 
aid ! They are aware that it is folly to expect perfection ; certainly 
they must know that in their own individual selves they have not 
such desirable qualities to offer. They know that the best and 
noblest have faults ; that friends of every degree have some traits 
or peculiarities that call for kindness and charitable construction; 
and in the new life they contemplate, above all others, they should 
understand how necessary it must be to bear one another's burdens, 
neither expecting nor desiring that the forbearance should be all on 
one side. 

In the halcyon days of love, before marriage, how important for 
the young to keep in mind that they are " not embarking on the 
smooth surface of a summer sea," but are to take life together as 
it comes to all — with its sunshine and its shadow — heartily enjoying 
the summer, but brave to meet the frosts and storms of winter ! In 
every vicissitude, if they love and honor all the good each finds in 
the other, and bear with loving patience such mistakes as may 
arise, conscious that they are about equal on both sides, what a 
change would be at once seen in the fearful records that are served 
up to the community in our daily papers ! 

Both men and women are of the earth, earthy, subject to such 
infirmities as are born of earth ; but we honestly believe a husband 
has more influence in shaping the character and life of a true, lov- 
ing woman than she can possibly have over his. Woman has 
more to sufier, more of those cares and perplexities which naturally 
tend to develop irritability, impatience, and similar infirmities, than 
men are liable to, and therefore she has more need of tender for- 
bearance and loving guidance. 

But fault-finding or silent disapproval, exacting obedience under 
the guise of unconditional surrender of all a wife's taste and judg- 
ment to his, is not a husband's best mode of weeding out her faults 
or leading her into a new and more perfect life. A woman can be 



THE LOTTERY OF LIFE. 47 

easily influenced and molded by gentleness and love, but it is not 
easy or safe to attempt to drive her, either by sternness, studied 
neglect, or disapprobation silently nianifested. Ah! this wretched 
mode of censuring by solemn silence ! A good round scolding, or 
a sharp quarrel even, and then a loving reconciliation — bad as such 
a course is — would be far less disastrous. 

Having made choice of a companion, young people look forward 
to marriage as a step that settles all uncertainty and gives to them 
a life of unbroken happiness. And yet how vague are their con- 
ceptions of what will be necessary to insure any portion of their 
anticipated bliss! 

" We are married, they say, and you think yovi have won me. 
"Well, take this wliite veil from my head and look on me. 
Here is matter to vex you and matter to grieve you; 
Here is doubt to disturb you or faith to believe you. 
I am here, as you see, common earth, common dew; 
Be wary, and mold me to roses — not rue. 

"Ah I shake out the filmy thing, fold after fold. 
And see if you have me to keep and to hold. 
Look close at my heart, see the worst of its sinning — 
It is not yours to-day for the yesterday's winning. 
The past is not mine — I am too proud to borrow — 
You must grow to new heights if I love you to-morrow. 

"We're married! I'm plighted to uphold your praises, 
As the turf at your feet does its handful of daisies ; 
That way lies my honor — my pathway of pride. 
But mark you, if greener grass grow either side 
I shall know it, and, keeping in body with you. 
Shall walk in my spirit, with feet in the dew." 

If one could look into the many aching hearts, made sore by the 
sudden vanishing of imaginary perfections, what a revelation that 
would be! Because 

" That way lies their honor— their pathway of pride," 

how many appear outwardly happy, or at least content, who have 
waked from their dream of anticipated bliss to a life of vain long- 
ings and repinings ! Seeing what to them look like fresher, happier 



48 GOOD HEALTH, AND HOW TO KEEP IT. 

lives all about thpm, they venture "in spirit, with feet in the dew,** 
on unsafe grounds. Hence we hear so much of broken homes, 
divorced hearts, and sin and sorrow, where there should have been 

abiding peace. 

"We're married! Oh, pray that our love do not fail! 
I have wings flattened down and hid under my veil. 
They are supple as light — you can never undo them : 
And swift in their flight — you can never pursue them; 
And spite of all clasping, and spite of all bands, 
I can slip like a shadow — a dream — from your hands. 

" Nay ! call me not cruel, and fear not to take me. 
I am yours for my lifetime, to be what you make me; 
To wear my white veil as a sign or a cover, 
As you shall be proven my lord or my lover; 
A cover for peace that is dead, or a token 
Of bliss that can never be written or spoken," 



GOOD HEALTH, AND HOW TO KEEP IT. 

There are few subjects around which cluster so many theories as 
the pi'eservation of health. Let a person pass from one to another 
in a large company, making a few simple inquiries as to the best 
way to keep health, and not two in twenty will agree. Each one 
will give sage reasons for not accepting the theory last propounded. 
One is positive that half "the ills that flesh is heir to" are the re- 
sults of improper food. There is much sound sense in that idea ; 
but the trouble is to be sure what is improper food. Each may 
start from the right point, but the abrupt divergence is amusing, as 
well as often bewildering. One asserts: "Too much meat is used. 
It inflames, and fills the blood with impurities. Pure milk, good 
stale bread and fresh vegetables should constitute the chief part of 
our food. If this idea," they insist, "could only be accepted and 
acted upon, the next generation would be a strong, healthy race, 
pure-blooded, pure-hearted, generous and noble; for the mental 



GOOD HEALTH, AND HOW TO KEEP IT. 49 

qualities are as largely influenced by the physical condition as the 
latter is by the quality of the food that is used." 

Another will earnestly argue that a vegetable diet will make 
poor, watery blood, and insure an indolent, effeminate people^ 
while fresh meat is absolutely essential to a vigorous constitution, 
to an earnest, energetic character; that a diet largely of salt meat 
dries the blood and makes those who use it lean, cadaverous, de- 
sponding and dyspeptic. 

After thus taking the opinion of a score of people, one is in- 
clined to doubt if wisdom is found in the multitude of counselors^ 
We believe that it is as impossible to make rules for health that 
will apply to all as it is to find two constitutions exactly alike. 
"One believeth that he may eat all things," and he can; another, 
who is weak, eateth herbs, and should do so. After reaching what 
is called the age of discretion, each must, to a large extent, judge for 
himself. Medical advice may be desirable, and sometimes indis- 
pensable, but physicians often find themselves in a dilemma, and 
all their skill, founded on what they think well-established theories,, 
is at fault. They will tell a patient, "Use no fresh bread, but. 
use that which is at least twenty-four hours old." The advice is. 
followed, but the result proves disastrous. The stomach rejects, 
such food, because acid and sour. By stealth, as it were, the pa- 
tient ventures on a piece of well-raised, well-baked, sweet fresh 
bread, and is comforted. At that one time, if no other, the stom- 
ach was not in a state in which stale bread was beneficial, and, ia 
defiance of all medical rules, craved and secured that which was 
found to be of great benefit. 

Much fresh meat with some constitutions induces fullness of the 
head and a feverish state of the system, because it makes blood too 
fast. It should therefore be discarded, and a little salt meat or 
fish, if the appetite craves it, with fresh fruit and vegetables, will 
probably be found to be just what the system requires. 

In truth, with health, as in many other things, each person must 
be a law unto himself. In acute or intricate cases physicians are 
necessary, but in many minor matters they can not decide. It is 
true that what is "one man's meat may be another's poison," and a 
little poisoning now and then seems indispensable to teach our 



50 GOOD HEALTH, AND HOW TO KEEP IT. 

individual physical, as well as mental idiosyncrasies. Experience 
thus gained, if not carried to such excess as to prove too severe a 
schoolmaster, will be of more value through life than all the doctors 
in Christendom — with all respect be it spoken — besides saving many 
a long bill at the drug-store. 

As a general rule it is not advisable to use hot bread too freely, 
though the effects i)roduced by its use may often depend more upon 
the character of the bread than upon its temperature. 

Neither salt meat or fish, nor fresh meat or fish, all the time, is 
advisable — though the salt food may be a trifle more economical. 
A judicious mingling of both is the better course. Good, healthy, 
well-cured pork, well cooked and used discreetly, is not injurious 
for a strong, healthy person — engaged in active or outdoor pursuits. 
But we doubt if it is wise for students to use much, or for seden- 
tary persons, or those at all inclined to humors or eruptive troubles. 

It is not safe to allow so large a liberty to young children. They 
are not capable of forming correct judgment, or governing them- 
selves at all. Parents must do that for them. After they are 
safely through the teething period, it is not necessary to confine 
them to a milk diet; but they still need the parent's restraining 
hand to withhold rich food, or sharp, hot condiments. Plain, sim- 
ple, but nourishing food, ripe fruit and berries in their season, are, 
we think, indispensable for growing children. But their meals 
should be regular — no lunches between — and never just before re- 
tiring. Many a mother will give her very young children rich 
food — pastry, cake, and sauces and condiments of the most indi- 
gestible or fiery kind — and tell you her children are healthy, and 
nothing hurts them. Perhaps the injury is not apparent at first, 
but it will not be long before headaches, indigestion of the most 
serious character, or dyspepsia — fixed for life — will be the harvest 
reaped from such injudicious and sinful indulgence. 



ONE- OF THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 51 



ONE OF THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 

Seated at a window shaded by orange-trees, among whose glossy 
leaves both fruit and blossoms nestle, the redbird from his cage 
calling "What cheer?" to his wild, free brother, and the mocking- 
bird saucily answering both, the lovely St. John's River flashing 
before us, and the thermometer at 78°, it seems diflicult to realize 
that the complaints in a letter just received can have any founda- 
tion. Yet we do not quite forget the discomforts of our Northern 
March. We need but to turn fx'om the beautiful scene before us, 
and, closing our eyes a moment, understand distinctly all that our 
"impatient friend" is enduring when she says: 

" Of all the torments crowded into a housekeeper's life, is there 
any that equals that which we must endure when left to the tender 
mercies of tlie stormy, windy, boisterous month of March ? 

" Didn't you once say that one of the plagues of Egypt must 
have been sent in March ? What you may have said in sport I am 
ready to accept in sober earnest, and confess to great sympathy with 
the Egyptians. I wonder if all the other plagues were as intoler- 
able as the dust that fell in Egypt. 

"I am tempted to throw aside my duster and broom and leave 
March to do his worst, unless you can tell me how to conquer. 
My appeal may be too late for March, but April will have days 
that will prevent my forgetting my present discomfort. At any 
rate send a word of comfort and sympathy that I may keep in re- 
serve for the March of 1879." 

That March winds and dust are the! terror of all good housewives 
none can deny. It certaiidy does seem a waste of time and strength 
to follow this most unruly month with any hope of undoing the 
mischief so persistently repeated. "Helen's Babies" and all the 
tribe of "Other Folks' Children" are models of staid propriety 
compared with the strange, wild antics to be guarded against 
during every hour of the long four weeks of March. Were we to 
attempt to prescribe "metes and bounds" for all these raids upon 
the peace of well-ordered households, we should be in a worse pre- 



52 ONE OF THE PLAQUES OF EGYPT. 

dicament than "Aunt Alice," who attempted to put her pet theo- 
ries into successful practice while endeavoring to manage her broth- 
er's babies. 

But notwithstanding the discouragements that surround the 
housekeeper through all this dreary month, the broom and duster 
can by no means be thrown down and the enemy allowed to have 
its rude way without resistance. To yield the field will make no 
change in wind or weather. Even if the dust were left, unmolested^ 
to cover every choice and dainty article, the cold, raw, chilly winds, 
the headaches, rheumatic pains, the coughs and many physical dis- 
comforts that all feel in some degree — and the feeble suffer more 
intensely — can not be avoided. Nothing will be gained by impa- 
tience or neglect, but every evil will be exaggerated by the untidi- 
ness that must follow neglect. We know of but one escape. Come 
to the land of the orange, the land of soft, balmy air, of bright 
singing birds and fragrant flowers. Under the orange-boughs you 
can defy March. 

To those who can not thus escape, we must advise " patient con- 
tinuance in well-doing." Cherish the broom and duster as your 
chief friends. You can not conquer — do not look for that — but 
you can keep the enemy in check, partially. Useless as it may 
seem to repeat the same operation many times a day, yet neglect 
it twenty-four hours, and it Avill cost double the labor to atone for 
the neglect. When dust first settles on any thing, it can be removed 
easily — almost blown off; but let it remain unmolested a day or 
two, and it not only adheres but seems to harden. Whether there 
is imperceptible moisture in the air, or the gas from fires or lamps 
holds the dust as it settles, we know not; but books, engravings, 
curtains, carpets and all the pleasant and ornamental articles about 
a house are greatly injured by this dust if left without care twenty- 
four hours, and assuredly demand double the time to renovate 
them that would have been needed, had they been lightly dusted 
several times through the day. 

The dust that hides in carpets, curtains or carvings is particu- 
larly hard to remove. For this reason March is the only time wdien 
we have any patience with darkened rooms. During this month, 
when not in use, we would advise that the blinds be closed and 



ONE OF THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT. 53 

the curtains dropped, excluding all the dust possible. But, even 
then, no house can be so closely guarded but the dust will enter. 
March is a sleepless foe, and taxes a housekeeper's time and patience 
to the uttermost. Constant care must be given ; if not, nothing 
can be touched without soiling the clothes or hands, particularly 
the latter. Constant washing the hands chaps them, and the dust, 
even though too fine to be discerned, will leave the hands dry, 
rough, uncomfortable and discolored. 

The carving and gilding of furniture or picture-frames particu- 
larly need great care. Once leave the dust to settle for the whole 
day, and they are soon so defaced as to be impossible to clean. 
Without being ill-naturedly observant, let any one notice how the 
choicest decorations in some houses show lines of gray or ash color, 
to the great disfigurement of beautiful work, while all the furniture 
looks dull and old. It requires very little wisdom, where these 
signs are evident, to see that the dusting has not been properly at- 
tended to. Without the strictest care, more injury will be done to 
furniture and choice articles in the month of March than in any 
three months of the year. 

Windows are much harder to keep clean in this month, and, 
indeed, in most of the spring months, because of frequent snow and 
ram, mostly attended with high winds; and when it suddenly 
sweeps across the freshly-washed panes, it leaves them almost as 
gray and dirty as before washing. For this reason it is not extra-v- 
agant to use alcohol to clean windows during these troublesome 
days. It requires but little. Dampen a cloth in alcohol and wipe 
off each pane ; it dries instantly, leaving no moisture for dust to 
adhere to, and makes the glass particularly clear. 

Even the most methodical housekeeper, in this month, will be 
obliged to wash on whatever day the wind will afford an opportu- 
nity. If clothes are hung out on a very windy day they will be 
more injured by the severe snapping than by many weeks' wear. 

We do not attempt to persuade our " impatient friend" that her 
troubles are simply imaginary — that would be folly; but seeing 
that for a few weeks this discomfort is inevitable, we trust that she 
and others similarly tormented will be brave enough to accept the 



54 CLEANING LACE. 

position without grumbling, and, at all events, keep on friendly 
terms, for their own sakes, with the broom and duster. 



CLEANING LACE. 



We are often requested to give the best mode of doing up lace — 
not simply lace curtains, or the common inexpensive kinds of capes, 
scarfs, edgings and insertions, but those which are of the mdfet deli- 
cate texture and often of great value. Those who can afford it usu- 
ally take such valuable property to French lace-cleaners, many of 
whom return the articles looking really like new. But too often 
they are much injured — rotted by the bleaching articles of various 
kinds which are used, or torn by rough handling. We have given 
the best directions we were acquainted with, but have had occasion 
for much less experimental knowledge in that direction than many 
ladies who rejoice in the possession of laces that have been handed 
down as heirlooms from generation to generation. 

We have before us a letter containing directions from a lady who 
has far more experience in fine lace than we claim ; and though not 
permitted to give the name, we take great pleasure in laying these 
valuable suggestions before our readers, knowing them to be thor- 
oughly trustworthy : 

" These are days when lace is appreciated and when it is really 
thought precious. Lace should never be starched, and most lace 
needs no stiffening. The best mode of doing it up is that which least 
displaces the original threads or mesh or changes the beauty of the 
work ; squeezing or wringing are, of course, out of the question. 

" I have always found the washing on a bottle the wisest and 
safest way, using a large bottle for large pieces. Cover the bottle 
first with old cotton — wind the lace on it carefully, and then cover 
it smoothly with a piece of plain net; soak and wash, and, if it needs 
bleaching, or there are any spots in it, lay the bottle in a pan of 
"water sufficiently deep to cover it entirely, and set it in the sun. 
Hardly any spot is proof against this. 



CLOSING HOUSE FOB THE SUMMER. 55 

" The lace will often be in perfect order if left to dry on the bot- 
tle after being rinsed ; or, if taken off when nearly dry, it may be 
delicately smoothed with light and careful fingers. 

"This method is the least troublesome, the most merciful to the 
lace, and the wisest every way, saving all wear and tear in washing. 
It is heart-breaking to see elegant lace pulled and starched. Those 
who are wisest in lace wear it in its yellow state, its color being 
proof of its age and rarity." 

We indorse most of this letter, — indeed all but the last clause. 
We can not imagine any one being willing to wear dingy, yellow, 
dirty lace, simply because the dirt is a proof of "age and rarity." 



CLOSING HOUSE FOR THE SUMMER. 

Many houses during the summer months are closed that the 
families occupying them may seek freedom from care, or amuse- 
ment, in traveling, or at pleasant fashionable watering-places. Some 
leave what they suppose to be trustworthy servants in the house 
for protection and care-taking, who in their daily presence have 
seemed perfection; but how often, when left entirely free from their 
employers' oversight, are they found to be unscrupulously dishonest!; 

We think houses left with no occupants are quite as likely to be 
found intact after a two months' absence as when servants are left 
in the charge, and the practice of leaving them so is more and more 
common. But there are some precautions with regard to the 
contents of the house that should receive strict attention before 
leaving. 

It is not necessary that a house should be thoroughly cleaned,, 
in the common acceptation of that term ; but a thorough sweeping 
and dusting, from the top to the bottom of the house, is of great 
importance. First of all, furnaces, grates and ranges must be 
cleaned, every pipe and corner freed from cinders or ashes, and all 
needed repairs made, that, at the home-coming, the house may be 
all ready and in good working order. After this should come the 



56 CLOSING HOUSE FOR THE SUMMER. 

sweeping and dusting. If flies have become troublesome before 
leaving, ,the windows must be cleaned very thoroughly the last 
thing, else the spots will be so hardened that it will be diflicult to 
remove them in the fall. 

The bedsteads should be well looked after, wiped free from dust 
and lint, every crevice examined with care, and all dust removed, 
and the mattresses as faithfully examined. Give mattresses and 
pillows a good shaking and beating ; let them remain uncovered 
and airing as long as possible, then cover with a bed-spread or 
sheet. 

Blankets, after being cleaned — washed if needed; if not, well aired 
and shaken — should be packed in the cedar trunk or linen-closet; 
if in the latter, with small lumps of camphor wrapped in a bit of 
linen cloth scattered through them, and wrapped in old linen 
sheets; fold in all the edges of the sheet, and sew or pin them so 
carefully about the blankets that a moth can not find access to 
them. 

Linen and cotton sheets, bed-spreads, table-cloths, napkins, towels, 
etc., after being sure that all are cleaned and well aired, should be 
put in the linen-closet, or clean, dry drawers. It is a great pro- 
tection to spread an old sheet on the shelves, leaving half of it 
hanging over; and when the linen is all neatly laid on the shelf, 
bring up the loose part of the sheet, and fold neatly over the 
articles placed on the shelf, tucking in the corners snugly. This 
done, sprinkle the wrapping-sheet wuth a generous quantity of red or 
cayenne pepper, and the same over the wrappers about the blankets. 
We should have said that red pepper should be sprinkled over the 
shelves, and blown in the cracks or loose places about the walls 
with one of the little syringes that are used with moth-powder, 
before the wrapping-sheet is spread over. Nothing will more 
effectually guard against moths, rats, or cockroaches than cayenne 
pepper. 

We would not advise lifting carpets, unless such as need to be 
taken up and shaken, and those should be well cleaned, and then 
shake moth-powder as well as red pepper between them — fold by 
the breadths evenly, so as to leave no wrinkles, and roll up com- 
pactly, wrapping the roll in an old ironing sheet or common sheet; 



HARDWOOD OR INLAID FLOORS, ETC. 57 

close the ends and sew up. Thus protected, leave them in roll till 
the house is again opened. 

For heavy carpets that do not need to be shaken every year — 
after sweeping faithfully, and cleaning out all the corners, blow moth- 
powder and red pepper plentifully into all the corners and around 
the seams, and scatter freely over the carpets; also strew it over 
all woolen or buttoned furniture. Woolen rugs, table or piano 
covers should be sprinkled with the powder and wrapped up in old 
linen or cotton — as well as footstools, ottomans and sofa pillows. 



HARDWOOD OR INLAID FLOORS AND BLACK 
WALNUT FURNITURE. 

Hardwood floors, and those which are inlaid or striped, are usu- 
ally oiled several times by those who have charge of the building, 
and well dried before the house is occupied. After that, when the 
house comes under the care of the owners or tenants, these floors 
are oftener injured more by overmuch cleaning, or rather improper 
cleaning, than by neglect. They should never be scrubbed, or 
washed, with hot water. No soap should be used. If not badly 
soiled or defaced, they only need to be washed with a clean cloth 
or mop wrung out of cool or tepid water. That will take off* all 
the dust that will accumulate by daily use. But if any thing 
adhesive or difiicult to remove has been spilled on the floor and left 
to dry on, it may then unfortunately be impossible to take this off* 
without using quite warm water, but by no means that which is 
boiling hot. In extreme cases a little soap in the water may be 
indispensable; but avoid both, if possible. 

If one must resort to warm water and soap, then wipe or .clean 
only about a yard at a time, having at hand a pail of clear water 
and a clean cloth with which to rinse off", and wipe quite dry as 
the work progresses. 

These hardwood or inlaid floors being oiled, hot water or suds, 
unless used with the greatest care and very seldom, extract all the 



58 HARDWOOD OB INLAID FLOORS, ETC. 

oil, and very soon the floor looks gray and dingy, begins to twist 
or warp, and some pieces crack and peel ofl*. For these reasons it 
is wise to avoid that mode of keeping such floors clean. If in daily 
use it will be impossible to keep them looking as nice as a good house- 
keeper will desire. They will require re-oiling, and, to look nice, 
should have it every three or six months, certainly every year at 
the longest. 

There is no "mixture" that is known of that will dry quickly 
and keep the floors looking fresh and clean. But any furniture- 
maker or worker in the hard woods used for these floors will fur- 
nish and prepare the oil properly. That done, some of the mem- 
bers of the family should have skill enough to put it on ; but 
we doubt if they could repolish the floor. That will require an 
expert. 

These hardwood floors are much more difficult to keep looking 
clean and comfortable than a carpet, or even an oil-cloth; and 
although we are aware they are becoming "stylish," or "all the 
rage," we can not like them. They make the house seem cold and 
inhospitable; and then the noise! Imagine a dozen or more pass- 
ing through a hall, or into the dining-room, with hardwood floors! 
Then think of the noise when all the chairs are pulled back to allow 
the occupants to be seated, and then pulled up to the table again; 
and the bewildering confusion and racket when all push back their 
chairs to leave the table! 

But " every one to his fancy." Oiled black-walnut furniture, or 
plain woods that have been stained and oiled in imitation of black 
walnut, and all of the dark woodwork in a house, if oiled, not 
varnished, must be treated in the same way as the "hardwood" 
floors. Wipe off" with clean cloths and cold water; wipe very dry, 
and rub furniture after wiping with a chamois-skin, but use no hot 
water or soap, unless compelled to do so by some unfortunate spot 
or stain; and then, as with the floors, wash but a little at a time, 
wiping very dry every step of the way. With furniture, if com- 
pelled to use warm water and soap, or indeed whatever way they 
are washed, it is desirable to polish them, after washing, with a 
chamois-skin. 

Varnished furniture may be washed without injury with warm — 



FINE GLASS AND CHINA. 59 

not hot — soap-suds, if same precaution above-named is followed, of 
washing but a small space, wiping dry, and polishing with chamois- 
skin. ' 

A friend suggests the following: " We have our halls and dining- 
room without carpets; but have a prepaiation which we put on 
them which will dry in an hour so that the floor can be used, and 
gives a beautiful polish. It is very easily put on. I could do it 
myself if necessary. You say you don't like uncarpeted floors for 
dining-rooms, it makes so much noise to move back from the table. 
We have a large drugget under and around the table, so we escape 
the noise; and without a carpet our room is so sweet and free Irom 
dust. I have it swejit every day with a broom, over which I draw 
a flannel bag. That takes up all the dust, and is better than the 
usual way of sweeping. I only have the floor wiped up Avith water 
once a month, an<l then with clean water in which I have a little 
cooking soda dissolved. When the floor is dry I put on the prep- 
aration (the rec^pt of which I inclose), with a flannel cloth: 

"floor polish. 

"Four ounces gum shellac, one ounce gum benzoin, one ounce 
gum mastic, one quart of alcohol. To be used when thoroughly 
dissolved." 

We like the mode of cleaning hardwood floors our friend recom- 
mends. We presume she refers to the inlaid floors. The flannel 
bag drawn over the broom is a capital idea. We find it of great 
service in wiping up oil-cloths, which should never be scrubbed or 
washed with a particle of soap ; and should think the floor-polish 
must be excellent for those who have hardwood floors. 



FINE GLASS AND CHINA. 

There are few things that so clearly express good taste, true ele- 
gance and refinement as the exquisite glass and china sometimes 
seen on entering a dining-room. It fills one with peaceful content- 



60 FINE GLASS AND CHINA. 

meat and pleasure to be seated at a table on which such articles 
seem to be "at home," not placed in sight for "company" show, 
but where, when on the table, they rest the eye, while their kindred 
peep out from the "buffet," or smile down on us from the side- 
board, as if to welcome a familiar family friend. There is genuine 
comfort in this, and very few would object to such furnishing in 
their own homes. None, we imagine, but the Martlias, who, over- 
careful and cumbered with much serving, see in the extra care 
which such articles must inevitably bring upon the mistress of a 
house that "last straw" which they are certain they could not 
•endure. 

True, one can not use such frail elegancies Avithout knowing that 
they demand careful handling; but, having once learned the best 
and easiest way of using without abusing whatever comes under 
their supervision or care, there is no farther ground for anxiety 
or apprehension. 

Fine glass and china will not break as readily as the coarsest 
kinds of delft or earthenware. No housekeeper should trust these 
choice articles to the care of a girl, unless one of those wonders we 
sometimes read of, but seldom see — a perfect servant ; because they 
are so expensive that it is unwise to risk a breakage. The coarse 
ware may be left to their manipulations; but the mistress is pre- 
pared to hear of daily breakage among such ware, yet comforts her- 
self with the knowledge that a half-dozen articles or more of the 
inferior sort may be destroyed and the loss be as nothing to the 
destruction of one of her beautiful cups, plates or goblets. If she 
must have "help," she is compelled to trust some things to their 
care, and patiently submit to the loss which most housekeepers 
have learned to look upon as inevitable; but she must look after 
her valuables herself, or submit to such heavy loss without com- 
plaint. 

If one is gifted with a common allowance of skill and prudence, 
there is nothing easier than to take charge of fine glass and china, 
and without any great risk of loss. 

The very best kinds of glass and china are always well "an- 
nealed," or seas(med, before being put into the market for sale; 
whereas all the common or inferior kinds must go through a pro- 



FINE GLASS AND CHINA. 61 

cess of seasoning to enable them to endure the sudden change of 
temperature from heat to cold to which they must be exposed when 
in daily use. When there is any care taken of them, or any effort 
to prevent their breakage from these exposures, they will be put 
into a kettle of cold water, placed over the fire, and the water grad- 
ually brought to a boiling point, then set aside to cool very slowly, 
usually letting them stand all night. If wood-ashes can be ol> 
tained, it strengthens the articles still more to throw in a double 
handful of ashes while tiie water is cold, before putting them over 
the fire, to boil in it. But the finest ware needs no such season- 
ing. They are so thoi'oughly annealed, or should be, before leaving 
the manufacturer's hands, that they can be washed in boiling water 
without harm, except in cold, frosty weather, when every thing is 
chilled. Even the best annealed ware will then break if jiut sud- 
denly into hot Avater. Set the articles first into a pan of tepid 
water, and let them stand till warm ; and after that they can be 
washed in hot water without any harm. 

Any glass or china that has gilding on it, even that which is con- 
sidered the most durable, should be gently washed in hot water, 
then rinsed in cold, but never rubbed with a towel of any kind. 
When rinsed, turn down to dry, and if not perfectly clean they 
may be gently wiped with a very thin, soft cloth or piece of silk; 
but no rubbing or attempt to polish, for that soon tarnishes the 
gilding. If through any carelessness or accident the gilding be- 
comes a little tarnished, a slight polishing with chamois-skin, with a 
very little whiting on it, may be used as a work of necessity. But 
it is a misfortune when any such cleansing must be resorted to. 

It is always best to have dining-plates and platters warmed for 
meats, whether common ware or the best dinner china; but in 
either case be extremely careful that no dish becomes hot. That 
not only makes them unpleasant, and troublesome for the carver 
and the guest, but is ruinous to dishes of all descriptions and any 
quality. It cracks the glazing all through the surface, and one is 
fortunate if it does not crack the dish also. Even, if at the time 
the dish is not found to be cracked, it will not be long before it will 
be injured past repair; for if only the glazing is cracked, water pen- 
etrates inside of the glaze through these little, almost invisible 



62 FINE GLASS AND CHINA. 

cracks, and expands the porous clay of Avhich the dish is made; 
eventually making the whole unsafe and so tender as to come in 
pieces easily. 

If this does not follow very soon, that which is worse than utter 
and irreparable breakage will surely be the result. Every thing 
greasy — meats, gravies or butter — will find a way to penetrate be- 
neath the cracked glazing into the clayey, porous interior, and 
make the exterior look brown and dingy. A tin case with shelves 
set near a register or steam-heater, or a closet sufficiently con- 
nected with some of the heaters about the kitchen or dining-rooms, 
is the best arrangement for keeping fine plates and dishes suffi- 
ciently warm for any kind of meat, and will prevent all danger of 
overheating. 

When the finest quality of cut-glass is in any way blurred or 
tarnished, it can be i*estoi'ed to its original beauty by polishing it 
with a soft brush on which is sifted perfectly fine and soft whiting; 
or a soft piece of newspaper can be used with good efiect to polish 
glass. Eoll up a piece of slightly wet newspaper, and rub the 
glass ; then repeat the work with a piece of dry paper. It has 
been said that some of the ingredients of printing-ink give a fine 
polish on glass cleaned with newspaper which nothing else can. 
However that may be, we have often tried the paper and been 
satisfied with the result. The polish is brilliant, and no lint re- 
mains, as when cleaned with linen. 

When fine cut-glass water-bottles or decanters get dim or 
*' furred" inside, rinse occasionally with a little muriatic acid, and 
then rinse with clear cold water. This acid removes all stains or 
impurities, and leaves the glass clear and brilliant; whereas ashes, 
sand or shot, which many employ to cleanse such articles, scratch 
and injure the glass, and do not leave any thing like the original 
luster ; and when shot is used, if any is left in by carelessness or 
accident, the lead in the shot is poisonous. 



HOW TO MANAGE STOVES AND RANGES. 63 



HOW TO MANAGE STOVES AND RANGES. 

Very few upon whom housekeepers depend for the labor be- 
longing to the kitchen, understand how to manage a range, or cook- 
ing stove, so as to secure the most satisfactory results with the least 
"wear and tear" to the range. Indeed, we fear that in this respect, 
the mistress is too often quite as ignorant as the maid — perhaps 
even more so. How many of the young wives now coming forwaid 
to take the places of the older housekeepers, whose places will soon 
"know tlaem no more," would feel quite at ease if called upon for 
a few days to do the simple work for two, all with their own 
hands? Some of them who may read this will toss their heads 
with a pretty gesture of defiance, saying: 

"Pshaw! Does she think young ladies so stupid? Anyone 
could do as much as that if it was found necessary. It is the 
simplest thing in the world." 

Perhaps so to those that have been well taught. But in a day 
or two Bridget finds it lonely ; and besides, strange as it may seem, 
inexperienced housekeepers are often hard mistresses; not inten- 
tionally, but not understanding how the work should be done they 
form no correct idea of the many steps needed, and expect and 
demand more than can be accomplished in a given time. So Brid- 
get leaves unceremoniously, and the lady has an opportunity to 
learn how simple it is to get — even the breakfast for two. She 
goes smiling and singing into the kitchen, with hardly an idea of 
the first steps to be taken, until the cold range or stove gives her 
the first realizing sense of the work before her. 

The range is dirty, full of ashes and cinders, and no coal up from 
the cellar. She looks at her soft, delicate hands and her tasteful 
morning wrapper, and the thought of using them over that great 
rusty, hard thing — 

" What shall I do? I never started a fire in a range in my life, 
and haven't the faintest notion how to begin it, or how to clear out 
all these ashes and cinders! And then to go into that dark cellar 
and bring up the coal! I never can do it, and I won't!" 



64 -ffOTT TO MANAGE STOVES AND RANGES. 

Did she suppose, wlien thinking it "such a simple thing," that 
the range was cleaned out and the fire started without hands? Of 
course such housekeepers can not know how to secure from their 
servants a proper care of any part of their house, and certainly not 
of the kitchen. But, judging from results, more mature persons do 
not so clearly read the signs as to be able, at once, to tell their 
cooks the reasons for the many mysterious results that are brought 
hefore them. Tlie bread comes to the table badly scorched and 
blackened. Tlie mistress expresses disapprobation, and inquires 
why this should happen so often. 

" Indeed, mem, this range is a very bad baker. Do all I can, it 
will scorch." And when the husband complains, he is assured that 
all possible care has been taken—but the stove is unmanageable. 

What should the lady have done? Before asking one question 
of the cook (if she had had any knowledge of cooking- stoves or 
ranges all questions would have been needless), she should have 
gone to the stove at once, lifted oif the covers, and let the girl un- 
derstand that it was her own carelessness, not the fault of the range, 
that spoiled the bread. 

What would she have seen on removing the covers? 

Why, the coal iilled up over the fire-bricks, the ashes and cinders 
packed under the top plate of the stove till it lay a solid muss be- 
neath it, coming up close to the plate. How can a range bake 
evenly in such a condition? It is impossible. In a short time the 
bottom plate of the oven will he burned through, if an upright oven; 
if one in the lower part of the range, ihe top plate will be destroyed, 
the fire-bricks burnt out, the covers cracked, the pipe in holes, and 
the range ruined. With proper care a good cook-stove should last 
for years, with a few slight repairs now and then. But we have 
of late had occasion to know that, under poor management, and wdth 
mistresses who had no knowledge to correct the evil, the best stove 
in the world may be utterly ruined in less than two years. 

Now, nothing can be simpler than the care of our cooking-stoves 
and ranges. All the needed directions are so plain and easy that a 
child of ten years old ought to be ashamed not to be able to follow 
them. We will imagine that we have a new range or cook-stove 
and are making the first fire in it, only premising that on first heat- 



HOW TO MANAGE STOVES AND RANGES. 65 

ing a new range one must expect that it will smoke a little till the 
whole stove-pipe and chimney have become well heated. First, pull 
out the damper, to secure a good draft ; then roll up some paper, 
not much, in compact bunches, so that when lighted they will not 
flash up and burn out instantly ; lay on this some small slivers of 
light or kindling wood. (If it is a coal-stove use as little kindling- 
wood as possible, because the ashes from wood deaden the coal.) 
Set the paper on fire from beneath. As soon as the small bits of 
kindling wood are on fire lay on four or five bits of larger wood, 
and with a shovel sprinkle over a little coal. By the time the tea- 
kettle is filled and a few preliminaries for breakfast attended to, 
the coal will be sufiiciently kindled to allow more to be added. Set 
the kettle over the fire, and see that the room is clean. (It should 
be swept after supper work is over, always.) Grind the coffee, set 
the table, or, if set over night, look it over carefully, that there may 
be nothing forgotten. If a pitcher of ice-water is used, cut and 
wash the ice. Let the water run, if from a faucet, a minute or so,, 
to clear the pipes, while getting and washing the ice, or pump a 
while so as to have clear and cool water; then fill the pitcher. By 
this time the coal will be all on fire and ready to receive the last, 
installment. Put on only enough to come up with the fire-bricks — 
not one hair's-breadth above them. Half close the damper, and while 
the fresh coal is kindling have the butter for the table put on the 
plate and set on the ice to keep cool. Cut the bread, and cover 
it with a napkin. Scald out the tea and coffee-pots, if both are 
needed, and, leaving hot water in them, set them on the back of the 
stove to keep hot. Bring out gridiron or stew-pan, and put where 
they will be hot. Take out whatever is to be cooked and get in 
readiness, and quite as soon as these are all before you, the fire will 
be in splendid condition for cooking, and no danger of any scorching. 
If any thing is to be broiled, pull out the damper; if not, shut 
it. As soon as breakfast is ready, if there is to be much cooking 
immediately after, rake down the fire, or shake it if there is a rod 
for shaking, and add coal as above directed, only to the top of the 
bricks; but if no cooking is to be done until time to*prepare for 
dinner, shut the dampers tight, and lift the two front covers a lit- 
tle way off", to slacken the fire, thus saving the waste of fuel and 



66 BOW TO MANAGE STOVES AND RANGES. 

needless wear of the stove. When ready to get the dinner, pull out 
the dampers, to let all the ashes escape up the pipes while shaking 
them out, and with an old wing or whisk-broom brush off all that 
will have accumulated under the covers by reason of the draft, and 
put on sufficient coal to fill to the top of the fire-brick. Leave the 
dampers out until the fire begins to burn clear, and proceed with 
dinner. 

The same rules are to be observed after dinner until time to pre- 
pare for supper, or tea. Unless there is to be something baked for 
supper or tea, there will be no need of adding so much coal as for 
the dinner. Start it in season, and boil the tea-kettle, which should 
be emptied after every meal, and filled fresh when ready for the next 
meal, without fail. (Water is not so good that has stood boiling or 
simmering from one meal to the next.) As soon as supper is ready, 
open the damper for an escape for the ashes, and shake them all out 
as clean as possible ; push back the damper, and lift all the covers half 
off to deaden the fire ; by so doing the coal will be cool enough, by the 
time the supper has been eaten and dishes washed, to be removed 
from the range with perfect safety. Take a small, narrow shovel, 
and lift all the coal remaining in the grate into a coal-hod. This 
done, brush the ovens out clean. Once a week, if movable, take 
out the bottom plate from the ovens, to see that no ashes have 
lodged there to retard the baking or burn out the plate. Nothing 
l)urns out iron faster than ashes packed underneath and heated 
«very day. Rap on the pipes with the lifter to dislodge the ashes 
that have settled in them, and lift off every cover; brush out the 
ashes into the grate, then tip over the grate and brush it free from 
all ashes or coal. By this time the stove will be cold, or sufficiently 
ISO before retiring, to lay in paper and kindling-wood ready to start 
the fire the moment one is up the next morning. Gather all the 
ashes into the ash-pan; sweep the hearth clean, but do not take the 
ashes out of the pan till morning, that there may be no danger from 
any live embers kindling up again. Now sweep up the floor, 
blacken the stove the last thing, and go to bed and sleep with a 
free conscience, at least as far as the kitchen divinity — a good 
Tange — is concerned. 

This work takes, at the longest, fifteen minutes. It can be done 



FOOLISH COMPARISONS. 67 

in twelve. We know, for we have timed it and done it with our 
own hands many times during the summer, to make sure before 
writing this that we were perfectly correct. It does not require 
half as long as it will to write or read this, for one can work and 
think much faster than write or read. And we can promise our 
readers, if they will see these directions followed, there will be no 
danger of burnt bread, scorched or smoky steaks; no smoky break- 
fasts, from tardy cooks filling the grate with wood to make amends 
for late rising, and burning out the saucepans by setting them in- 
side the grate; and, lastly, there will be no long bills for new grates, 
new covers, new fire-bricks, or new ranges. 



FOOLISH COMPARISONS. 

We are tired and disgusted with those women who are so greatly- 
exercised in drawing comparisons between man and woman ; and 
who ask with painful earnestness, as if their life here, and salva* 
tion hereafter depended on the answer : 

"Do you not think women equal to men in all things, and su- 
perior in many?" 

There is no ground for any comparison ; they are in all things so 
dissimilar, that no comparison can be made with justice. To talk 
about equality or superiority is the sheerest nonsense. One may 
as well compare the merits of the eye with those of the ear. We 
should be imperfect if either were destroyed ; but each has its own 
distinct peculiarities, and of a nature that makes any attempt to 
compare them absurd. So between man and woman ; each has 
duties to perform quite dissimilar, yet of a character that is help- 
ful to the other, and each can perform them more perfectly than 
the other could, and still better if both work together. The only 
chance of comparison is when the one attempts to take in hand the 
work naturally belonging to the other. 

To be sure, there are many things that a man can do which 
really belong to woman's sphere, and they are done well perhaps, but 



68 FOOLISH COMPARISONS. 

a woman would have done them better. A man can cook, wash^ 
iron, sew ; but he will never do such work as easily, as cleanly, as 
deftly as a woman would have done — because he has stepped out 
of his place. 

A woman can plant, mow, etc. ; but the strongest woman will 
never be as expert, or do the work as perfectly as a man, because 
she is not adapted to that kind of work. Why attempt a compar- 
ison where there can be no substantial grounds from which to draw 
an inference? What chance could there be for any comparison, 
except that which would be insufferably foolish, if a woman were 
to attempt to hew granite, lay a stone wall, or build a house? Her 
lack of physical force, the delicacy of her limbs, prove that she is 
in the wrong place. 

Let a man attempt the fine, delicate work that a woman performs 
so easily, and his great, awkward hands will be sadly in the way. 
Did you ever see a man attempt to dress a tiny baby, make point- 
lace, or the finest embroidery ? He could doubtless do these things, 
somehow, if he must. Did you ever see a woman split great gran- 
ite slabs, lay a stone wall, shoe an ox or a horse? She could do 
these things, possibly, if driven to a point where it was absolutely 
necessary. But is it not evident that, by nature, she is not fitted 
for such work any more than man is for the more delicate arts? 
God who made them male and female did not intend their labors 
should be of the same nature. There is no sound basis for any 
comparison. 

Most of the duties in a sick-room are more appropriate work for 
a woman than for a man ; but when it comes to the most intricate 
parts of a physician's work, requiring nerve and strength, can one 
feel as safe under a woman's hand as under the care of the stronger 
sex? Who would feel willing that a woman, with her finer or- 
ganization and more sensitive nerves, should attempt surgical oper- 
ations, where one false stroke, one instant's failure of the nerves, 
or of self-possession, would be fatal ? 

We think we would prefer to put a case of importance into the 
hands of a lawyer rather than into those of the ablest woman that 
any law school ever honored with a diploma. 

We think a man truly called to preach will furnish a better 



"AS THE TWIO IS BENT THE TREE INCLINES." 69 

sermon than any woman with a Rev. to her name; but we know 
many women who practice the virtues inculcated, far more perfectly 
than the preacher himself. 

And so through all the varied duties of life. Those who desire 
to discuss this matter make an invidious, disagreeable, unjust piece 
of work of it, because God has given no true foundations from 
which to draw such comparison. To talk of equality or superiority 
is great foolishness. Each, though totally unlike, needs the other, 
and though in different positions they stand in honor and excellence, 
if they are faithful in the perfomance of their duties, one as high 
as the other. As a whole they are perfect. To man belongs the 
strength, physically and mentally — to woman the power springing 
from all gentle graces, kindly deeds, unselfish labor, and the pure 
and holy qualities that help to make home the entrance to heaven. 
For a woman to ignore or slight these sweeter, purer virtues, 
through ambitious reaching after the stronger but coarser power 
given to man, is to scorn and throw away her birthright. 

"She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the 
law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household; 
and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and 
call her blessed ; her husband also, and he praiseth her. The heart 
of her husband doth safely trust in her," etc. 

A woman truly deserving this character need not attempt to draw 
comparisons as to the equality or superiority between man and woman. 
*'Act well your part; there all the honor lies" — for man or woman. 



*'AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE INCLINES." 

Parents often blight, or destroy the young lives committed to 
their care, either by injudicious indulgence, or selfish reluctance to 
accept the trouble, the restraints and cares, which inevitably come 
with helpless infancy. Often, through excessive fondness, they 
yield implicitly to the unreasonable exactions of beings too young 
to understand what they need. If, in such cases, wiser friends 



70 "^'S' THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE INCLINES." 

remonstrate with the parents, and attempt to show them the folly 
of their indulgence, they are thought unkind or hard-hearted. 

" Such a darling! How can its mother deny it any thing?" 

But by such extravagant indulgence you are injuring the child 
you profess to love so tenderly. You are laying the foundation for 
a most selfish and disagreeble character which, sooner than you 
imagine, will outgrow your control and become your tyrant, causing 
years of trouble and unhappiness. 

"Why, this is but a baby! and I think our little ones should 
have all the liberty and enjoyment possible. It will be time enough 
to tighten the reins and exercise authority when the child is old 
enough to discern good and evil." 

Ah! that time conies much earlier than parents are willing to 
believe. It requires but a few weeks for a baby, tiny and unde- 
veloped as it appears to the doting parents, to understand that by 
persistent crying and violent demonstrations of anger, it will receive 
all the care and immediate attention it was by these natural signs 
demanding. Having conquered, the infant becomes sweet and 
' quiet, and soon falls asleep. How long will it be before that little 
babe- will learn that passionate crying will compel the mother to 
rock it to sleep regularly? That will soon become too monotonous, 
perhaps, and the incipient tyrant decides that to be walked with, 
is preferable to rocking. A good cry, with kicking and struggling 
plentifully interspersed, will soon bring the mother to her feet, or 
the nurse will be called upon to take up the line of march. It 
will require but two or three such victories before walking will be 
the only way to coax the child to sleep or into a good-humored 
condition. If sleep comes at last to relieve the weary nurse, how 
softly she creeps to the crib, how stealthily she manages to plit the 
child from her arms on to the well- warmed pillow! That " twig" is 
rapidly bending in the wrong^direction. 

As the babe grows out of the nurse's arms, its will, which never 
has been wisely controlled, is manifested in almost every act ; but 
its little dainty, imperious ways are pronounced, "So charming! 
Too ' cunning' for any thing!" And, doubtless, they are so, if one 
looks only at the present, with no foreshadowing of whereunto these 
*' cunning" ways may lead in after life. It may be laughable, just 



"^-S' THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE INCLINES." 71 

for once, to see this small specimen of humanity stamp with its tiny- 
foot, or strike with its pretty dimpled hand, when denied some 
article of food, or deprived of something unsafe for it to handle. 

In a few months the little child enters another stage of child life. 
That which at twelve months or two years was "so cute!" "so 
smart!" that mother had not the heart to check it, was but the 
beginning of insubordination to parental control, or to trespasses 
and infringement upon the comfort of others, -will fast become in- 
tolerable, even to the partial eyes of the parents. Now let them 
attempt to tighten the reins or exercise proper authority. Will it 
prove an easy task? Will they succeed in straightening the 
"twig" which their own folly or neglect has permitted to "bend" 
so far beyond their reach? 

Where lies the blame? The mother who suffered herself to be 
conquered by an infant's puny resistance, must answer. The 
parents, who, later, saw without rebuke or prevention, the small 
child abuse or tear choice books, destroy valuable articles, or fur- 
niture, or strike the nurse, or torture animals, without one resolute* 
effort to subdue or teach it better, must appeal to their own con- 
sciences to decide this question. They who winked at the child's 
youthful misdeeds, proud of its "smartness," will suffer the most 
for this wicked indulgence when they see what the little one, so 
loved and indulged, is fast becoming — ungovernable, insubordinate^ 
impertinent, yielding to no authority that is not brought to bear on 
it through punishment or force. The "twig," twisted and bent 
by over-indulgence or neglect, has become a branch or limb, dis- 
torted, unsym metrical — a disfigurement, not a thing of beauty that 
should have been a joy forever. 

A child indulged in every caprice, whose wrong-doings are a. 
source of merriment and t)penly repeated as something wonderfully- 
brilliant in the presence of the culprit, must be but little lower than? 
the angels if it does not in a few years bring its parents to grief, 
and become the torment of the whole household and a nuisance tov 
the neighborhood. 

A great wrong is done children by over-fondness and unregulated 
indulgence! but quite as much harm springs from the heartless 
neglect of those parents, and particularly the mothers, who, for the 



72 ,A WELL-DRESSED LADY. 

pleasures of fashionable life, and their own selfish enjoyments, leave 
their children to the unsafe guidance and imperfect judgment of 
hirelings, while they look only to their own ease and pleasure. Such 
mothers ignore any responsibility and every duty, until at last they 
are roused to the knowledge that their neglected children are now 
utterly ungovernable and vicious, going in ways that have every 
promise of bringing their parents' gray hairs with sorrow to the 
grave. 



A WELL-DRESSED LADY. 

We have been repeatedly asked, " What Is a reasonable sum for 
a lady rnoving in good society to expend upon her own wardrobe? " 

Our first impulse was to frankly say, "We do not know;" but 
remembering that a reasonable question was entitled to careful atten- 
tion, we concluded to make inquiries among friends in various posi- 
tions and of infinite variety of taste. But among a large number 
to whom we have spoken we have not found any two that agreed. 
There is no one question, we imagine, that would be so very diffi- 
cult to answer definitely. One lady, who we thought would give a 
very satisfactory answer — not for the millionaire's wife and daugh- 
ters, but for very prosperous people— said, without a moment's hesi- 
tation, "Five hundred dollars a year is an ample allowance, but 
not an extravagant one." 

Another, whose husband's income might safely be judged to be 
about the same as the first, for their mode and style of living were 
very similar, exclaimed, when asked if she thought five hundred 
dollars a proper standard for those whose position was similar to her 
own, " Oh, no! No lady movmg in genteel and moderately fashion- 
able society, could possibly maintain her position creditably with 
less than one thousand a year; and it would be an excellent man- 
ager who could do so with even that sum." 

Another lady was positive that she could keep herself presentable 
in the best society on two hundred and fifty dollars a year. Another 
assured us that she never spent over three hundred; and we think 



A WELL-DRESSED LADY. 73 

we know of some who would be welcomed in choice society who 
would be thankful if they were sure of half that sum for their own 
use every year. 

Here let us observe, en passant, that we recalled those conversa. 
tions with much amusement a short time since, while at a very ele- 
gant party in honor of a distinguished guest. We there saw many 
elaborately and expensively dressed ladies, and, of course, in every 
variety of costume, but without giving much thought to the expense 
of fashionable attire ; our chief solicitude being to avoid overthrow 
by the miles of " trains" that so occupied the floor as to make loco- 
motion somewhat hazardous. If part of the elegant and cestly silks 
and velvets that swept the floors could have been used to cover the 
unprotected necks and shoulders, aside from being sensible and 
economical, it certainly would prevent some severe shocks to old- 
fashioned modesty. 

But having escaped the " trains" without an ignominious fall or 
broken limbs, and survived the sight of very much undressed necks 
and shoulders, finding safety for a short time in a corner, wc 
remembered the question of a lady's expenses, and thought this a 
good opportunity to form some correct estimate. We soon found it, 
however, a hopeless attempt, and concluded that every woman 
must be a law unto herself in this matter. She ought to know 
what she can afford to spend without injustice to others ; and if her 
love of fashion and dress tempt to extravagant expenditures, and 
she yields to the tempter, she may be sure that her future 
will be clouded, and her present enjoyment turn to bitterness and 
regret. 

There is one consideration that ought to guard our young ladies 
from extravagance in dress; namely, the fact that any one who can 
<;laim to be a perfect lady — if she is dressed neatly and in correct 
taste — is always received and cordially welcomed to the most ele- 
gant entertainments given by those with whom she. most delights 
to mingle. Mark the vast difference in the dress and adornments 
which one sees at parties of every description. Seldom are two found 
■dressed alike or in the same style. You will see a young lady in 
simple white, or a neat but not elaborately trimmed silk, with few 
ornaments — perhaps none — and her hair simply and tastefully 



74 " I HAVE NO MAN'S PBOXY." 

arranged. By the side of this fresh, bright girl, stands one old 
enough to be her mother, attired in the extreme of fashion, and 
suggestive of colds, stiff neck, or rheumatic pains ; or a modest ma- 
tron in a close-necked velvet, with rich and appropriate jewelry, 
and the skirts just clearing the floor, and by her side elegant lace 
or India mull with immense trains — and again, pink, blue, green, 
plaid, striped, or plain silks, of sensible length, or trailing by the 
yard to the peril of any who venture to move ; and yet with all this 
variety they are respectable, honorable, and select, or they would 
not be there. 

Therefbre, seeing that it is not alone the most devoted votaries 
of fashion who can obtain access to the best society, would it not be 
wise for ladies, young and old, to make the experiment of dressing 
more simply, and set apart a portion of the money usually spent on. 
dress for something more stable and substantial than they gain by 
following fashion's caprices? Why not keep a correct account of 
all expenses, and learn how much is really necessary to secure the 
entree to the best society ? 



"I HAVE NO MAN'S PROXY— I SPEAK FOR 

MYSELF." 

Would it not prevent many mistakes, and ill-advised assertions, 
if our housekeepers acted more in accordance with the principle 
above indicated, and managed their affairs less by proxy ? We do 
not intend to convey the idea that m hen a woman, fortunately or 
unfortunately, has at her command the means to hire those who 
must work for their living to perform the roughest parts of house- 
hold labor, her sense of duty should lead her to do it all herself. 
By no means. If that was thought necessary to make a perfect 
housekeeper, thousands would be thrown out of employment, and, 
with those depending on their labor, left to suffering and want. As 
far as one can afford to "keep help" in the house, it is a kind and 
charitable deed, in one sense, to give this opportunity for support 



"I HAVE ]S'0 MA^'S PROXY." 75 

to that class who most need the work, being governed, of course 
in the selection by the efficiency of those whom they employ. 

But the mistake lies, we think, in ladies giving too little super- 
vision to the great variety of labor that belongs to household duties. 
If servants are secured who show a good deal of common sense, and 
seem to be guided by sound judgment in their portion of the work, 
the mistress sees it, and soon begins to trust more and more to this 
"proxy." Rejoicing in the sense of increasing freedom from con- 
stant supervision, more and more of the care passes out of her 
hands, until at last alie is only the nominal mistress or housekeeper. 
And it is to this that we refer. A cook, waitress, chan>bermaid> 
laundress, or one occupying any subordinate position in the family, 
may be exceedingly capable, as near perfection as can be imagined, 
yet no good housekeeper can safely slip out from all cai-e. It is to 
be supposed that the mistress of the house has better judgment, a 
more correct knowledge of many things to be done, or can give 
better reasons for doing them, than her servants can possibly have, 
however excellent they may be. She has had a better education, 
and should judge by a clearer light than they can. But if, because 
they generally peiform their duties in a satisfactory manner, she, on 
that account, throws off her own responsibilities and allows the 
work to go on, day after day, without any supervision on her part, 
she is unjust to her servants as well as to herself. 

Almost every week something new is brought before the public 
that claims to be able to lighten many burdens or simplify many of 
the duties that are a part of domestic economy. Many new ways 
of preparing food, or new kinds of food, come to every housekeeper, 
or are brought to her notice, indorsed "by the best authorities.'* 
Now, if these are put for trial into the hands of the best girl that 
was ever employed in any house, the probabilities are that not one 
in a hundred will be accepted or indorsed by th§ mistress of the 
house. She will not take the trouble to examine or try it herself, 
but by "proxy;" and if she is told by this proxy that any machine 
is not satisfactory, is not time-saving, does not make work easier, 
she does not reflect that this good servant may not have had the 
judgment, or that kind of information that would enable her to use 
it correctly or decide on its merits with any degree ef justice; and> 



76 "I HAVE NO MAN'S PROXY." 

by such means, that which may prove of great value to many fami- 
lies loses at least one indorser, simply because the mistress did not 
take for her guide, " I will have no man's proxy — I speak for my- 
self." Had she examined the article, whatever it might be, care- 
fully noted the directions herself, which servants are never exact 
about, she might have been able to enlighten the girl, show her 
where she failed, and, in the end, after overseeing a few trials of it, 
found she had a most valuable article. 

In the same way, when any new article of food, or "new pro- 
cess" of preparing it, is brought into market, we have never had a 
servant in our employ who could take it without supervision, and 
bring out a satisfactory result. But by going into the kitchen and 
superintending the work, or doing it, for the first trial, while the 
cook looked on, we have often had the satisfaction of not only teach- 
ing her to prepare it properly, but also were able conscientiously to 
recommend it to friends and the public, or, if necessary, as honestly 
to reject it. There are many most excellent articles of food brought 
into notice of late years that only require a little extra attention 
and nicety in preparing them to be choice additions to our tables; 
but they are of a nature that a slight deviation from the directions 
will be very injurious, and the mistress must be on the alert to see 
that they are strictly followed. A few trials will fix these rules in 
the mind, so that after that they can be exactly followed without 
trouble or delay; and until this is secured no housekeeper can 
safely relax her watchfulness. Servants are employed to relieve 
from the labor and confinement to the house, to give the mistress 
time for reading, sewing, social life, and such duties outside of her 
family as she ought not to discard ; but in no sense should they be 
employed to take from her the responsibility of constant supervision 
and control. 



THE CARE OF BIRDS. 77 



THE CARE OF BIRDS. 

Mocking-birds are by many supposed to be among the most diffi- 
cult birds to rear, and keep in a healthy condition; and some assume 
that the care and anxiety of rearing them, and the pain of losing 
them and other birds to whom one becomes* attached, must over- 
balance any short-lived pleasure that can be found in their posses- 
sion. We can in nowise agree with this theory. One soon un- 
derstands how to treat thetn, and, if at all methodical, will in a few 
days learn to do all there is to be done, easily and quickly. 

We once had a cage fitted into an east window of a small sew- 
ing-room, in which we kept over forty birds, of almost every kind; 
and, rising before others were up, we occupied, after the first week, 
just one half hour in cleaning the cage and all the utensils, giving 
the birds their baths and replenishing the food. We never felt that 
we had wasted any time over them ; even when it became expedient 
to exile our birds, and put the room to other uses. 

Like almost all pets taken from a free, wild life, and imprisoned, 
even though in gilded cages, the mocking-bird certainly needs, for a 
time, a little more than the usual amount of care. If one wants a 
bird or birds that are tame and at ease when others are near the 
cage, or that can be allowed to come out of the cage at proper times 
without requiring great exertions and skill to force them back 
again, it is always safer to take them from the nest before the 
mother has taught them the art of flying and catering for them- 
selves. In this case they must be fed by hand every hour for a 
month or six weeks; and for a week or ten days will call for their 
food through the night in tones that admit of no delay. The mo- 
ment they begin to call they will be found with heads held up and 
mouths wide open begging for food*. Little bits, not bigger than 
a pea, should be put into their mouths, not more than a teaspoon- 
ful at a meal, and a few drops of water given by a spoon or 
dropped from the tip of the finger into their ever-ready mouths. 

The food for the little baby-birds for the three first months should 
be always the same, with no change. Boil two potatoes tender. 



78 , THE CARE OF BIRDS. • 

No new potatoes should be used if old ones can be obtained. Two 
eggs boiled hard. Mash the yolks and potatoes perfectly free from 
lumps, see that both are thoroughly blended, roll into a ball, and 
set in a cold place. Some chop or mash the whites with the yolks, 
but we doubt if it is a safe experiment. This ball, made of two 
medium-sized potatoes and two yolks of eggs, if kept in a cool 
place will be sweet for twenty-four hours, and is the only food 
young mocking-birds" should be allowed for three months. After 
that a little sweet apple may be scraped soft and added. All 
through these first months the little nestling must have plenty of 
clear soft water to drink, and, indeed, at all ages this is indispensa- 
ble. As soon as old enough to hop about briskly, put a small 
bathing-tub half full of tepid water into the cage, just the chill 
taken off, and in a few days they will learn to take a bath every 
morning. 

In about six months the birds, if males, will begin to sing, and 
can have the food in a cup and help themselves as they need. It 
is not best to leave too large a quantity of food near them at one 
time. They are great feeders, and a young bird might injure itself 
if overfed. 

If you get birds five or six months old, there is no extra care 
needed, only they will not so readily become tame. At this age 
one-third grated carrot added to the Qgg and potatoes, or a little 
sweet apple, may be given, and a spoonful of ants' eggs given once 
or twice a week will improve their singing. The ant's eggs can 
usually be found for sale at bird-stores. 

A large cage, where the bird has plenty of room to exercise, is 
very desirable for any bird, but especially for large birds. The 
bottom of the cage must be kept thickly covered with gravel, or 
river sand, not altogether to keep the cage clean, and absorb any 
moisture, but to keep the feet clean and help digest the food. 

A small red pepper hung in the cage will often be picked at by 
the old birds, but they should have the same in their food as often 
as once a week. Lettuce leaves, when young and tender, and the 
seed of the lettuce when ripe, also plantain seed, even when young, 
are much relished by them, and are good for them if not given too 



THE CARE OF BIRDS. 79 

often or in too large quantities. A cuttle-fish bone should always 
be kept in the cage for all birds. 

We have no doubt but our Northern idea of keeping our birds 
in a high degree of heat, under the impression that as in their na- 
tive climate the temperature often rises above one hundred such 
heat must be the most congenial for them, destroys very many of 
our singing-birds. On the contrary, the mocking-bird, cardinal, 
nonpareil, and all singing-birds that we are acquainted with, seek 
the shade of the orange, fig or live-oak when the sun is iu mid- 
heaven; and, when caged, if their friends wouhl raise a canopy 
over the cage, or place a shelter of green boughs over it, or remove 
it in-doors when the sun is most brilliant, the birds would express 
their gratitude by far sweeter song, than if left to the mercy of a 
blazing sun. Care must be taken, also, to keep the birds out of a 
draft or current of air ; for they are greatly injured by it, and often 
die from such exposure. 

The mocking-bird is not as cleanly in the c:ige as many other 
birds, but iu freedom none keep themselves in a better condition. 
For this reason, to keep them in good health their cage should be 
scrupulously clean — cleansing perches, cups and feeding-troughs, 
and also the floor or slide, every morning. If one has an old or 
duplicate cage, into which the birds can be transferred while the 
cleansing process is going on, it expedites the work exceedingly; 
and, if large enough to give them plenty of room, it is an excellent 
plan to leave one cage free, to be well washed and aired till the 
next morning. 

Mocking-bird food can be obtained at any bird-store and many 
groceries; but if used as a regular diet, one-third grated carrot 
should be mixed with it, as this prepared food is too rich for safety, 
if used as it comes in the bottle. A paste of corn-meal and milk, 
with the yolk of a hard-boiled egg mixed with it. is excellent to be 
used with prepared food ; but the meal paste should be made new 
twice a day. If it gets sour it will injure the bird. All kinds of 
berries, a little sweet apple now and then, a bit of orange or fig, 
will not hurt them, if fed sparingly. They are very fond of every 
kind of fruit or berries, particularly pokeberries, which are con- 
sidered in their season to be necessary to keep them in good health. 



80 THE CARE OF BIRDS. 

Meal-Avorms are good for them ; but they should not have more than 
two or three at a time, and not oftener than twice a week. If so 
tame that they can be let loose in a room, they will help themselves 
to flies and spiders. The latter are peculiarly healthful if not taken 
too freely. In their wild state, instinct teaches them when they 
need no more; but in a cage it is found that they can not feed 
with the same freedom on insects, or be allowed much meat. A bit 
of fresh beef (raw), half an inch long and of the same thickness, 
may be chopped fine once a week and mixed with their food ; but 
too much injures, and will render them liable to apoplexy. A leaf 
of lettuce, celery or Avater-cress is excellent. Some fresh food they 
must have every day, if possible, and are not likely to eat more 
than is good for them. 

Once or twice a month, if they can be removed into another 
cage or let loose, in a room, after washing and drying the cage and 
its belongings, light two or three sulphur matches inside the cage, 
and move them up and down in it while burning, to destroy insects, 
or keep a roll of brimstone suspended in the cage all the time. At 
least once a week blow a little insect powder — found at any bird- 
store or druggist's — into the cage and over the birds, using one 
of the rubber blowers or bellows that come usually with the pow- 
der. It will not hurt the birds, but will free them from the 
vermin. 

Great regularity in feeding and caring for birds is needed to pre- 
serve their health. Give them their baths, fresh food and water, 
as near as possible, at the same hour. Every week or two put 
a rusty nail into their drinking-cup, especially during molting 
time. 

Except in the matter of food, the same care that is bestowed on 
the mocking-bird is necessary for the health and comfort of all 
birds that are kept in cages. The canary seems to lose all natural 
instinct in selecting food when in a cage, and will eat almost any 
thing; but if kept in the same cage with other kinds, will partake 
more freely of canary, millet, rape and hemp. The latter, how- 
ever, is not good for them to use regularly ; and as almost all birds 
are fond of it, the trough or cup used for the hemp-seed should be 
sparingly filled. A little delicate green food — lettuce, chickweed. 



THE CARE OF BIRDS. 81 

etc. — is good for all kinds of birds. The cardinal, or redbird, de- 
lights especially in rough rice, but will taste of most of the seeds 
that are within his reach. He is, if taken young, easily trained to 
live peaceably with all the birds one chooses to put together in one 
large cage. But the mocker is too impulsive, aggressive, and heed- 
less in his wild, joyous moods, to live with smaller birds. 

The troopial is a large, gorgeous, splendid bird, but with a long, 
cruel beak and despotic disposition, and must be kept without com- 
panionship, either in a separate cage or shut out by a sliding-door 
or partition. The same care bestowed on other birds, to keep them 
in good health, is necessary to his well-being. His diet mostly 
seeds — canary, millet, etc. — with his proportion of fresh, green 
food. Like most of the caged birds, be likes to have a share in 
the prepared food of the mocking-bird. 

The bullfinch is easily tamed, and becomes very affectionate with 
his keepers, but is quarrelsome and cruel to any bird which he can 
master. So he, too, must live alone. 

The goldfinch, chaflSnch, skylark, Java sparrow, weaver, finches 
of many kinds, the canary, nonpareil, love-birds, cockatoo, and 
many others, are gentle, peaceable, and can live in a pleasant, 
social way in one large cage with very little quarreling, dispute, or 
mischief, and are all easily cared for, dividing their attention among 
the diflferent kinds of seeds, and all ready for an occasional meal — 
worm, spider or fly — enjoying a bit of lettuce, chick weed or other 
delicate green thing, and taking a bite at the mocking-bird food 
by way of dessert or variety. 

In short, regular habits, shelter from the midday sun, perfect 
cleanliness, with no exposure to drafts or currents of air, are the 
most important rules to secure healthy, happy and long-lived 
birds. 



82 JUDICIOUS SEASONING. 



JUDICIOUS SEASONING. 

Many excellent dishes are ruined through careless seasoning. No 
'doubt it is natural for a housekeeper to feel that, having hired a 
cook, and paid without murmuring the wages demanded, she should 
be entitled to release from all care of the food except that of de- 
ciding what will be most satisfactory for each meal, and, perhaps, 
an occasional suggestion. But one must be blessed with a superla- 
tively good cook, whose judgment can be fully relied on, if she do 
not soon learn that suggestions are not as effective as oversight. 

Those who are careless or ignorant would do well not to marry 
before making some efforts toward a broader knowledge; or, if 
married, none so much need a thorough drilling in all that pertains 
to cooking as they do. The " cooking schools," if accepted in the 
right spirit, will be even more beneficial to the mistress than the 
cook. The great trouble is, that most of this class of married 
ladies never have true homes, of which they are the mistresses ; but 
as soon as the bridal tour is accomplished, they settle at once into 
some stylish boarding-house, if they can afford it ; if not, they are 
content with a second class — any thing rather than have the care 
of a house, and take upon themselves all the duties that belong to 
such care. Whether tliey make this choice from indolence, or be- 
cause conscious that they are not capable of managing an establish- 
ment, it is not our place to judge. But one thing is very sure, if 
the women of the present day gave more time and labor to their 
households, and less to work or amusement outside of home, we 
should not hear so much of the nervous, sickly condition of young 
married ladies. 

Every one needs a certain amount of active manual labor to in- 
sure good health ; and, if entered into judiciously, there is no ex- 
ercise so healthful as that which all, from the richest to the poor- 
egt, can have, if they choose, in superintending their homes and 
securing palatable and healthy food, either by oversight or doing 
it with their own hands. After a few trials a love for the work 
will spring up, a pleasure in watching results and knowing the 



JUDICIOUS SEASONING. 83 

scientific reasons as well as the practical ones for the steps taken in 
the many combinations that, by attention and skillful management, 
she will learn belong to good cooking as well as to the truest kind 
of housekeeping; and when, like Milton's Eve, who hoped to en- 
tertain the heavenly visitant, she turns, " on hospitable thoughts 
intent," and ponders 

" What choice to choose for delicacy best, 
What order so contrived as not to mix 
Tastes not well joined, inelegant, but bring 
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change," 

we think a sensible woman will find more real enjoyment in these 
duties than she ever did in balls or parties, and certainly with far 
less fatigue and strain on the general health and constitution. 

But we were more particularly intending to speak of the neces- 
sity of care and judgment in seasoning every kind of food that is 
brought to our tables. There is far less watchfulness exercised in 
this regard than i§ necessary. It costs no more to have a dish 
properly seasoned than to have it done imperfectly. There is noth- 
ing more disagreeable than to sit down to a dish of soup so destitute 
of salt or pepper as to cause a doubt if the cook had not, by a 
careless mistake, filled the soup tureen with the rinsing of the soup 
kettle, instead of the soup she had prepared, or so abounding with 
salt or pepper as to be past eating. To be sure, one can manage to 
give some little character to any dish that lacks seasoning by add- 
ing pepper and salt; but nothing added after the dish is set before 
you can give a true flavor, while, if too highly flavored, no art can 
repair that defect. The same is true of meats and vegetables. It 
is bad enough to have food, particularly meats, come to the table 
half cooked and cold, but to have them also lacking in seasoning, 
or over-seasoned, is "adding insult to injury." 

By a very little trouble one can have every variety of seasoning 
close at hand, with no appreciable cost, and then only need correct 
judgment and skill to have the table furnished with perfectly fla- 
vored food. Of course the tastes of those who are to partake of 
each meal must be consulted as far as possible and borne in mind 
by the mistress, and her directions for particular dishes, or her own 
combination of them, be varied in accordance with the laws of 



84 WHO WILL SHOW US A PERFECT WAY f 

kindness and hospitality. But no peculiarity in taste will do away 
with that amount of seasoning, if only pepper and salt, which is. 
necessary to make every dish palatable ; and no meal should be 
brought on the table that the mistress is not sure has received that 
care and oversight, through her, which only can insure success. 

DRYING HERBS. 

There is a great waste in many houses by neglecting to save and 
dry that part of celery and parsley which cooks, if not cautioned, 
will throw away. The leaves, coarser stalks, and the hardest part 
of the root of celery or parsley should be washed, drained, and 
dried in a cool oven. When well dried, grate the root and rub the 
leaves and stalks through the hands as fine as possible ; then rub 
all through a sieve, and put into bottles, corking closely. 

Prepared in this way, one can have on hand, at no expense, ex- 
cellent seasoning for soups, stews and stufiing, which, but for this 
slight care, would be thrown in the waste-barrel. No housekeeper, 
who does not feel it a duty as well as a necessity to keep a careful 
oversight of every department, can imagine how much goes into 
this receptacle that is really valuable and could be used in her 
family to great advantage. The men who call for these barrels 
know very well in what houses the mistress's eyes keep watch over 
every department of her house ; and their comments on their com- 
parative gains in different families are often very amusing, when 
inadvertently made with so much emphasis as to be heard from the 
kitchen-door up to the hall or parlor. 



WHO WILL SHOW US A PERFEGT WAY? 

Every mother has a theory of her own, entirely distinct from any 
of her associates, with reference to the mode in which she intends 
to bring up her children ; at least every mother who gives any care 
or thought to the subject. There are some, we grieve to say, whose 
children "just come up," with no mother's hand to guide them, and 



WHO WILL SHOW US A FEBFECT WAY* 85 

if they attain to a true and noble maturity it is only because God, 
unseen, leads them saiely. No thanks to the mother if the world is 
■better or richer because they were born into it. But if through 
bad examples and influences they step aside from the straight and 
narrow path into by and forbidden ways, and are luined, woe to 
such mothers when they are called to give a true account of their 
stewardship ! 

But there are a large class of mothers whose earnest desire is to 
^uide their children safely, always endeavoring to keep in view 
their highest good ; yet no two of the most intelligent and earnest 
mothers think alike on this subject, or are ready to adopt the same 
theory in the management of their children. 

One believes that she can do more for her children, and better 
manifest her love by dealing with them in the gentlest manner and 
influencing them through unbounded indulgence, confident that by 
this course she will so bind them to her that the temptations and 
lures set to catch and enthrall the unwary, will have no power 
over young hearts bound to the mother by these years of unselfish 
devotion, and the gratification of eveiy demand. Those who thus 
judge and act, forget that their children are mortal — subject to all 
the infirmities that belong to human nature. If from babyhood 
every desire is unchecked, every whim indulged, they are sowing 
the seeds of selfishness and self-indulgence in soil naturally ready 
to bring forth a plentiful harvest. Such seed, if allowed to spring 
up unchecked, will choke and dwarf, if not utterly destroy, filial 
affection and every noble and unselfish aspiration for the happiness 
•or good of others. 

Another mother takes an entirely different view of her duty, and 
firmly believes that, for her children's good, prompt, unhesitating 
obedience must be secured at all hazards, even when it can only be 
attained through much severity. By this course she imagines that 
■she will best manifest her love — a love which can insure the future 
well-being of her child. This theory is very common with young 
mothers; but, fortunately, after trying it too faithfully on one or 
two of the elder children, it is likely to be greatly modified in the 
management of the younger. The danger is that, when convinced 
they have erred by too great strictness, they may attempt atone- 



86 WHO WILL SHOW US A PERFECT WAY* 

ment by flying to tlie opposite extreme, and ruin the children by 
undue leniency. 

One class of mothers start in their new life resolved to govern 
only by moral suasion, never resorting to punishment under any 
circumstances, however difficult to govern and rebellious the child 
may be. They argue that, if not exasperated or humiliated by 
punishment, patient teaching, loving entreaties and efforts to lead 
them by high moral motives into the right way, will be the most 
effective and permanent, giving their loved ones correct habits, 
and bringing them into maturity noble men and women. 

With very many dispositions this mode will be excellent; but 
there are as many that can not be thus led or controlled. They 
are spoiled if much indulged, and, not being finely or delicately or- 
ganized, but of a coarse nature, they grow restive and rebellious 
under any appeals to their moral natures. With such characters 
sparing the rod may spoil the child. 

And so each young mother theorizes; but how few, as the babe 
quietly but rapidly grows out of her arras, keep the last hold of their 
early ideas of what constitutes the perfect way ! Our children pass 
from infancy to childhood before we dream of it, and thence from 
youth into man and womanhood; and, looking down for the little 
ones, we find standing by our sides our six-feet sons, and fully- 
matured and blooming daughters. When each at maturity develops 
some peculiar traits, totally utilike any conceptions the parents had 
formed of the child in its earlier life, they find no provision in their 
plans adapted to this strangely metamorphosed being. 

Ah! if mothers could be endowed at the birth of their children 
with wisdom to read each one's character correctly, and suit their 
training to these peculiar characteristics, what a blessed thing it 
would be! But we grope in the dark, never sure that we have 
struck the right path in which to lead our children; or, if it proves 
right for one, uncertain, if we follow it in guiding the next, that 
we shall secure the same favorable result. We pray weakly and 
doubtfully for more light, for some revelation tliat will make our 
course certain of success. If we fail, " we faint beneath the bur- 
dens we are bearing," when a course that promised the most flat- 
tering results brings our children into trouble and wrong, and we 



LADIES' EXTRAVAOANCE. 87 

learn, too late, that it was through our weakness and mismanage- 
ment. Then, looking forward to the guidance of the babe in our 
arms, and grieving over former mistakes, 

"The heights that we must scale look cold and frowning, 
Sweet seems our maiden calm ; 
E'en while we think to touch the victor's crowning, 
We clasp the martyr's palm. 

"Oh! sisters, let us trust our God more truly, 

We win our strength through pain ; 
Striving to work as in His sight more purely, 
We shall not toil in vain " 



LADIES' EXTRAVAGANCE. 

Much has been said and written on this subject, often very 
wisely — and, no doubt, some severe criticisms have been richly 
deserved. But is extravagance confined entirely to the "weaker 
sex?" We are told that business men have failed and been totally 
ruined in "mind, body, and estate" through the reckless expendi- 
tures of their fashionable wives ; and, doubtless, this is many 
times too true. But there are two sides to every story, and two 
"ways — if not more — by which the causes of all wrong-doing can 
be justly explained, or estimated. If the causes were alvvays 
honestly searched for, it might not so often be "the woman wliich 
thou gavest me" who wrought the ruin. Are there not cases on 
record where the husband's exjoenditures for his own selfish grati- 
fication and pleasures had quite as much to do with his financial 
wreck, as his wife's? Are not the faults on either side about 
equally balanced? 

A wife's rich dresses, her velvets and expensive laces, her 
diamonds of the finest water and fabulous prices, her " loves of 
bonnets " wearied of, and cast aside for some newer and more fanci- 
ful device, while still fresh from the milliner's hands, are doubtless 
•woefully extravagant. But if a girl has never had a lesson in 



88 LADIES' EXTRAVAOANGE. 

economy, from her birth, but rather has been taught to feel that 
she has only to stretch out her hands and they would be filled, how 
can she be expected after marriage to know how to care for her 
household in a suitable manner? Why should she give any thought 
to the amount spent daily? Why hesitate in making any purchase, 
however needless or wildly extravagant, if the fancy seizes her? 
How money is made, what brings it in for her use, are questions she 
never asks. Why should she ? As flir as any teaching or explana- 
tion she has ever had, she may suppose, if she thinks about it at 
all, that it grows in the woods, and her husband goes out every 
morning to gather it for her use. No education before marriage 
has ever taught her any more reasonable idea. And after marriage 
her husband gives her no information about his business; never 
talks to her about it, or consults her about their mutual expendi- 
tures. The same cruel love and indulgence, or indifference, follows 
her into her married life, and she is left in utter ignorance of all 
practical knowledge. A butterfly! But under skillful education 
she might have been a noble specimen of womanhood; one on 
whom the hearts of husband and children could safely rest; who 
would do them good, and not evil, all the days of her life; who 
should open her mouth with wisdom, and look well to the ways 
of her houshold. 

But having been defrauded in early life of such training as every 
girl, however rich, ought to have, why should all the blame rest 
on her if extravagance cripples, and at last destroys, her husband's 
financial operations? Was the fault wholly hers? 

But this is not all. Suppose, after the first few weeks of married 
life, her husband begins to urge upon her a less lavish expenditure, 
assuring her that his business will not warrant such reckless waste ; 
though her love for him — for it is but charitable to imagine that 
their union was from genuine love — may cause her to pause and 
endeavor to follow his wishes, yet the way is dark, and no one 
comes to lead her through the darkness into light. How shall she 
make the first right step? She presses forward for a higher stand- 
point, slips backward to the old place, and tries again. She can 
not yet catch the thread that will guide her safely. Now, suppose 
while she is thus groping in the datk, earnestly but ineflfectually 



LADIES' EXTRAVAGANCE. 89 

seeking the right way, grieving because she makes so little progress, 
she obtains, in some mysterious way, a slight insight into her hus- 
band's mode of practicing the lessons he would fain teach his wife. 
Her mind is beginning to wake up; her vision is growing clearer. 
She learns to reason about some of her husband's proceedings that 
hitherto she looked at as something which must he, if one would 
move in good society. She knows that he keeps fast horses, attends 
the races, "enters" a horse, or bets on some favorite on the 
"course." Well, what of that? He belongs to a club— several, 
perhaps, and is often away at club dinners, or excursions. Well, 
why not? He smokes the best cigars, has a large collection of 
expensive meerschaums, and his smoking-room is lavishly supplied. 
He is a lover of fine jewelry, a connoisseur in works of art, and 
happiest when his house is full of them. He feels justified in 
spending large sums in the gratification of these various tastes, 
and seldom stints himself in any of the gentlemanly pleasures 
which appear to him as reasonable indulgences. 

Hitherto his wife, if indeed she ever gave a thought to these 
portions of her husband's daily life, felt it was a necessary part of 
"good society" — and not to be gainsaid or resisted. But if the 
day comes when money is not as easily obtained as at first, and the 
husband sees with alarm breakers ahead, it will be his wife's ex- 
travagance that he will first see through magnifying glasses, and not 
his own. His gentle remonstrances or stern reproofs may not so 
unseal her eyes that she will be able to draw a just comparison 
between his expenditures and her own, but how can she help a 
feeling that she is rather unjustly censured? 

If failure comes upon them, no doubt the world — her neighbors 
and pleasure friends — will be the first to judge the wife severely, 
and spend their deepest sympathy on the bankrupt husband. 

A woman's extravagance is less skillfully concealed than a man's. 
Hers are usually in matters of dress and adornment, all on the 
outside; and we may be sure if trouble and loss fall heavily, every 
yard of velvet, or rich lace, every diamond, or gem of purest ray, 
will be counted and appraised at the highest value, and credited 
to the extravagant wife, and all the works of art that adorn their 
house will also be set down as unanswerable proofs of her wild 



9,0 LADIES' EXTRAVAGANCE. 

expenditures. This is cruelly hard ; and the bitterest part of it is that 
the husband also takes part in the superficial account of his own 
shortcomings, and, even if loving tenderly, sets down the misfort- 
unes to his wife's mistakes rather than to his own, not even ready 
to halve the account between them. 

But we think husbands make their first mistakes in their reti- 
cence on business matters. Every husband ought tp take his 
wife so far into his business confidence, that they can freely speak 
of the daily habits of expenditure, and endeavor to live so unitedly, 
that, when misfortune comes, they will stand together — each accept- 
ing honestly the just portion of blame, and both, in loving partner- 
ship, profiting by the past mistakes, and eager to use all their power 
toward building up their fortunes on truer, firmer foundations. 

No one can more clearly see the mischiefs that must follow the 
idle, thoughtless extravagance of the present day, and which seems 
to be largely on the increase. We hear the cry of "liard times," 
and are almost hourly besieged by the poor and suffering who know 
not where to lay their heads, or find food for their starving families, 
whose earnest petition is for work, not alms. We turn heart-sick 
and despondent from sorrows we have not the power to relieve, to 
see the stores thronged with the multitude who spend their money 
needlessly, just for the pleasurable excitement of "shopping," to 
pass away the time which hangs heavy on their hands while wait- 
ing for the next ball, party or opera. Oh, if they would take that 
wasted time and money to help the poor! If in this way they 
eould see what money can do to bring light to eyes faded with 
weeping, hope to hearts despairing, they would soon learn that the 
pleasure of making others happy, earning the blessings of those 
ready to perish, is infinitely better than any found in their usual 
round of enjoyment. 

All this we clearly understand, and know full well that the pres- 
ent extravagance of many fashionable ladies leads direct to later 
days of sorrow and hardship ; but while sorrowing that this should 
be, we beg that all the blame of failures and ruin should not be 
attributed to women. We have little sympathy with some of the 
strange movements of the so-called "strong-minded" class of women; 
but we do believe that each, in their appropriate sphere, may 



BEGIN WISELY. 91 

and can be equal — equal in executive ability, in the wise adminis- 
tration of the duties belonging to their own departments, and 
equal — fully united — in the home duties. And we desire to see 
each willing to bear the full share of blame, when both are really 
culpable, for such mistakes as threaten disaster to their united 
kuigdom. 



BEGIN WISELY. 



Before beginning the new life, and establishing the new home, 
young married people will be wise if together they define the metes 
and bounds of the allegiance they intend to give to fashionable life, 
and the style that the more ultra think an important part of the 
etiquette which governs the most genteel society. By refusing to con- 
form strictly to fashions that their sober judgment can not approve, 
they will show that they intend to be governed by sound, good 
sense. Those fashions that, for a few weeks, are quoted as essen- 
tial to real gentility are soon discarded, to give place to fresh 
absurdities. 

The fashions of this world pass away. They are as evanescent 
as the morning dew ; bright and fascinating, perhaps, during their 
short reign, but sinking from sight and memory when a new light 
supersedes. But farther than this the comparison no longer holds 
true. The dew sinks into the earth before the brighter glories of 
the morning, not as worthless, but to invigorate and sustain the^ 
tender germs of beauty that lie folded in slumber beneath, waiting: 
the sun's signal to burst their bonds, and spring forth to cheer and 
bless the world. But styles and fashions go out and are forgotten^ 
leaving no rich or grateful memories behind. 

Those who are blessed with that good solid sense that will enable 
them to form their judgment of fashions so correctly as to modiijr- 
their use of them, by that innate sense of the fitness of prevailing 
fashions to their means, or their own individual peculiarities, are tie 



92 " BEGIN WISELY. 

ones who are the most certain of abiding peace, and home happiness 
clear down to old age. 

But those who put their trust in blind guides, and feel bound to 
follow each change of fickle fashion, little dream how, at the very 
beginning, they are squandering the sweetest part of early married 
life. They rush on blindly, never pausing to reflect that if they 
would realize how holy and sacred a thing this young life may be 
made, or understand tliat God has put it into their hands to de- 
velop, so that if nourished tenderly, prayerfully, all through life, 
it will grow brighter and brighter, until their eyes, closing on this 
beautiful world, shall open to more transcendent glories above ; or, 
that if they neglect and lightly value it, they will find it a cold, 
unlovely thing, bringing no joy here, but a terrible burden of hidden 
talents, and neglected trust, for which they will find it impossible 
to account when the Lord comes to make up his jewels — to sepa- 
rate his own from those who are bidden to depart. 

"But my husband likes gay society; is more governed by the 
laws of fashion than I should be, were it not to please him." 

It rests with you, then, chiefly, dear child, to quietly show him 
how bright and lovely you can make his new home, without in- 
creasing the expenditures unwisely by outside gayety. No one will 
be happy who expends beyond her husband's means. But, without 
extravagance, with far less expense than must be incurred in a 
constant round of gay society, home can be made so happy in a 
short time, that few thoughts will be given to the fashionable, ex- 
pensive gayeties outside. Don't imagine that we advocate an un- 
social life, or a selfish one. By no means. Frequently claim an 
evening for yourselves, but often have also one or two choice 
friends to lunch, to supper, or to spend a pleasant evening, enliv- 
ened by such amusements as are congenial to all. But very seldom 
feel it necessary to entertain so many at once as to weary you, 
past all enjoyment, or embarrass you in your endeavors to mete 
out for each one a portion of your own especial attention, in due 
season. 

In very early married days it is seldom that frequent gatherings 
of ten^ twenty, forty, fifty, will not make the purse too light for 
economy ; so that the expense must be met by curtailing many of 



BEGIN WISELY. 93 

the little e very-day niceties and attractions that one must have to 
insure a liappy liome. Certainly, the enjoyment gathered by filling 
the house with guests, however dear each individual may be, can 
not give the liighest enjoyment tg any one ; but for the young mis- 
tress it must be a burden, however skillfully she may be supported, 
that is a weariness to the flesh. 

But this is not the most critical part of such entertainments. 
We are in nowise now criticising those who are so abundantly 
supplied with this world's wealth that they feel no necessity of 
giving the subject close attention through any economical reasons j 
or only so far do we have them in mind, or hold them responsible, 
as we see their example a temptation to others who should not 
attempt to follow. It is the future happiness of a young couple 
that is in jeopardy if they spend on their bridal outfit, their mar- 
riage entertainment and receptions, more than they have any right 
to use; and, by so doing, know that they will be crippled for a long 
time in their endeavors to replace it ; or, should sickness or disas- 
ter, which are common to all, overtake them, they will find it im- 
possible to retrieve that one act of misjudgment made at the com- 
mand of etiquette and against their own good sense, or through a 
false pride lest they should appear unable to vie with others. 

That one false step, from these causes, has destroyed the happi- 
ness of many young people while yet it was but in the bud. 

We give one instance to explain our meaning more clearly, and 
it is only one of many which are brought to our notice frequently, 
and for which our heart aches on account of those who have so 
nearly been shipwrecked by this blind folly. It is sorrows that we 
are powerless to assuage that has led to what we have written. 

A bright, sweet-faced young girl, as we supposed, called, begging 
us to give her advice in her great distress. Little by little we 
learned the whole story; one so often told, that we can not feel we 
expose any one person or violate a trust by giving the chief points 
in her story. 

She had been married but six months, and, from her statement, 
no fairer prospects of happiness could be asked for. She had no 
wealth, and the husband, though he had laid up a few thousands, 
knew he must depend on an industrious, economical life to keep 



94 BEGIN WISELY. 

them in simple comforts, with few luxuries. Both were united in 
their intentions to do so. 

But her sisters had married richer men; and her husband's pride, 
supported, no doubt, by her own, would not consent that his wife's 
outfit and wedding arrangements should fall below her sisters'. 

" As soon as all this excitement is over we will soon save enough, 
by extra economy, to replace the sum I shall be compelled to draw 
from my savings for this occasion ; but it would look very mean in 
me to consent to a simple wedding, when all our friends know how 
stylish your sisters' were." 

Well, the wedding over, they must, of course, take a bridal 
journey, and to some stylish place, and then, " we must settle down 
to a more sober life." 

"Oh! but on our return we must have 'receiving days,' you 
know, and some few entertainments." 

"Yes, I suppose so; but I tell you this is using money fast. 
However, just for this occasion we must go through with it." 

But when two or three months had flown by, the bills, which had 
been allowed to run on without being examined till they "settled 
down," presented an array of figures that was appalling. When 
all was paid only a few hundred remained in bank of a sum that 
was to be untouched till needed to meet such emergencies as all are 
liable to. 

Sour looks, recrimination and tears ushered in their first real 
housekeeping; the husband grew morose and desponding, though 
working as if for his life ; the wife was either irritable, or in tears. 
Feeling that the mistake rested with both, she could not silently 
listen to his assertions that but for her wild desire to be in fashion 
this great trial need not have come upon them. 

Then his health failed from such incessant application to business, 
and he could find no lighter employment. Their little home must 
be given up, and the many pretty and valuable articles sold to se- 
cure them two small rooms, and such care as the husband needed ; 
and as he became unable to take care of himself he repaid her 
nursing with abuse and reproach. In this hard school she began 
to see that a little more firmness on her part from the first, less 
desire to stand well in that world where her sisters shine, might 



"TRAIN UP A CHILD IN THE WAY HE SHOULD GO." 95 

have enabled them to steer their bark beyond the quicksands, and 
into safe waters. 

In this state of mind she came to us. What could we do? With 
heroic patience she might, in time, soften her husband's asperities, 
and bring him to see that in this mutual calamity they hud been 
equally at fault ; and that knowledge should prove salutary, so that 
out of the darkness and suffering, God might bring back the old 
love and mutual forbearance, making both watchful against touch- 
ing the sore spot with an unskillful hand. Such changes have 
been, and poverty has then proved a blessing — but not often. 
There is no safety in trying an experiment which so often causes 
misery all through life. Happy if the clouds lift, and the sore 
hearts become gentle and tender before their feet go down into the 
cold river from which there is no return. 



"TRAIN UP A CHILD IN THE WAT HE 
SHOULD GO." 

A text so often quoted and so well indorsed, should be eagerly 
accepted by parents as the rule by which they will endeavor to 
train their children, if for no other reason than because of the 
promise that the children, thus guided, shall not depart or turn 
aside from it when they arrive at years of discretion. But how 
few of the children all about us give evidence of having been thus 
trained! What is "the way" in which they should walk? No 
parent who reads God's Word can have a doubt. His commands 
are plain and explicit. Next to obedience to God, and holding 
him in true reverence and honor, are they not commanded to train 
their children to obey and honor their parents? Yet how little is 
seen of true obedience and loyal respect! 

No one doubts but children love their fathers and mothers, unless 
among the lowest and vilest. Even that class have a kind of brute 
affection; and among the refined and cultivated some manifest a 
love that is almost morbid in its intensity. Yet even such 



96 " TRAIN UP A CHILD IN THE WAY HE SHOULD GO." 

emotional children are not always the ones who regard, or are taught 
to regard, high respect and prompt, unselfish obedience as indica- 
tive of the highest aiFectiou. In olden times parental discipline 
was often, no doubt, carried to an extent of rigor that was un- 
natural, unjust, and sometimes wickedly cruel. Openly expressed 
tenderness or caresses were seldom indulged in, because, in many 
cases, it was feared that through such indulgence on the parents' 
part the child would lose some portion of the awe supposed to be 
absolutely binding in its approach to the father or mother. 

But instead of softening and slightly modifying the ancient mode 
of child-training, we of modern, and, as it is claimed, more enlight- 
ened times, have swung clear round to the opposite extreme. No 
doubt unjustifiable severity is sometimes still practiced, and in the 
worst forms. But we more frequently see too much leniency on 
the part of parents, and to such an extent as to tempt, if not 
dare, a naturally trusting, loving, gentle child to become unruly 
and disobedient. The little ones rush into a room like young 
whirlwinds, scattering books, hats, and over-garments in wild con- 
fusion all through the hall, and into the parlors, and then, with 
boisterous tokens of affection, throw themselves upon the mother, 
expressing the most rapturous love. 

All right so far, though a more quiet, gentle expression of their 
emotions might have been more acceptable. But suppose they are 
now requested to do some trivial thing for this mother, so fondly 
loved, or go on an errand which would keep them from play a few 
minutes, how many children with smiling, cheerful faces, without 
a frown, a word of complaint or expostulation, without whining or 
sour faces, will obey with cheerful alacrity? 

Where rests the blame? Who has trained them to put their own 
wishes first, to make self the central idea, and to expect that all 
considerations — outside of their own desire — shall be made secondary, 
or be trampled under foot? 

With many parents it is not so much because their unwise love 
shrinks from denying their children any thing that their hearts 
crave, as because they do not like the trouble of enforcing obe- 
dience. Perhaps, having been trained themselves to habits of selfish 
indulgence, they are too indolent to give "line upon line, precept 



« TRAIN UP A CHILD IN THE WAY HE SHOULD OOJ' 97 

upon precept." "It's too much trouble; I've told them ever so many 
times to put their things in place when they come in, to enter a 
room more quietly, to obey cheerfully and promptly, but I might 
as well talk to the wind. I give it up. I mean to have a good 
time, and not be kept upon the worry and fret all the time. 1'hey 
may just have their own way. We shall all be happier. I pre- 
sume they'll change, and come all right when they grow up." 

Then a slight twinge breaks off this long list of explanations or 
excuses, and the remark is added: "After all, if I did not believe 
that children are better in the end for winking at their shortcom- 
ings, indulging them in all their childish whims, I should take up 
the cross, and keep them in better order." 

The conscience is pricking them, and this is a "sop to Cerberus." 

We certainly do not believe in finding fault constantly with the 
unending mistakes of children. We think some young mothers- 
conscientious mothers — make many mistakes in over-governing, espe- 
cially, the first child; but, seeing that they kept too tight a rein, 
the younger children are spoiled by an attempt to atone for the 
early misjudgment. We do not believe in severity or over-strict 
government, but we do believe in exercising good, sound common 
sense. If a child of two or three years is taught to pick up things 
that; he has thrown down himself, instead of seeing that some one 
else is expected to do it for him, it will soon become second nature, 
and will be done instinctively, as much as carrying his food to his 
mouth instead of putting it into his ears or on the top of his head, 
as a three months' old baby might do, because he knew no better. 

Just so, by persistent reminders, by seeing that he could receive 
no answer, or would be quietly sent from the room, can a child be 
taught that he is to enter a room quietly, and if another is talking, 
or if company is present, he must sit down, and wait for a pause 
before be makes known his request. It takes time to "train" 
children into good manners, but it is surprising what apt scholars 
they can be made by perseverance and gentle firmness, without 
fretting or scolding. 

But aside from moral training, nowhere can parents show their 
wisdom, or their folly, as in their skillful training, or unwise neglect 
to train, their children to behave decorously and unselfishly at the 



98 TRUE COURAGE AND SELF-CONTROL. 

table. It was of this one item in a child's education that we 
intended to write when our thoughts wandered off, uu consciously, 
and took us a little out of our way. 

We know of no more pleasant sight than a company of orderly, 
wisely trained children at the table; and when such young folks 
are kept to a second table when "company comes," we think the 
guests are deprived of much pleasure. On the contrary, nothing 
is more revolting, setting every nerve quivering painfully, as to «ee 
children at the table disputing selfishly, trying to get a little better 
piece than their brother or sister, or clamoring to be helped, 
instead of waiting for their turn, standing up from their chairs, 
tip-toe, trying to reach across the table for something, too impatient 
to wait till the proper attendant could help him. And, after being 
abundantly helped, what more annoying than to see and hear them 
eat like half-starved animals, swallowing food half-chewed, and 
then rushing from the table without asking to be excused, without 
folding the napkin, or setting back the chair? Such habits are an 
offense and discomfort to beholders, and a cruel wrong to the chil- 
dren — because when they come to maturity they will be disagree- 
able; and, if sensitive, will see their own deficiencies as compared 
with others better trained, and be made sour and unhappy, or reck- 
less and defiant — setting at naught all the customs of good society — 
and, at last, be ignored, ostracized from the best society, when, but 
for their parents' neglect, they might have shone its brightest orna- 
ments. 

With whom rests the blame? 



TRUE COURAGE AND SELF-CONTROL. 

With some, real courage and self-control are natural ; almost, if not 
quite, instinctive. They do not appear to know what fear is. Still, 
every parent knows the great difference that is seen in the same 
family. One child rushes into all kinds of danger, apparently with- 
out any fear, yet will be greatly excited, and manifest no self-con- 



TE UE CO URA GE AND SELF- CONTR OL. 99 

trol; while another shrinks from danger, but, if it comes, will be 
far more self-possessed than the fearless one, making no outcry, and 
openly manifesting no agitation. This last characteristic is, per- 
haps, less frequently shown in younger children than the bold, 
courageous, almost aggressive bearing. 

We doubt if true courage can be as successfully cultivated as 
self-control. A man is expected to be courageous ; and, if he fails, 
sinks greatly in the world's estimation. Women, unless of a mor- 
bidly sensitive temperament, have more self-control than men. If 
it is not natural, few reach mature age without seeing that the 
necessity for self-possession is important and necessary. It usually 
comes through experience, and often repeated i'ailures or great suf- 
fering. Perhaps it would be wiser to call it endurance rather than 
self-control; yet are they not nearly akin? To endure is to exer- 
cise self-command under suffering or trial. And our object is to 
impress upon our readers, especially mothers, the value of these two 
most important traits of character. Few understand or more than 
half comprehend the treasure they possess if they are gifted with 
cither of these admirable qualities ; but if the two are found in one 
person, they give their possessor a power which can only be suffi- 
ciently estimated when brought into full action by some unforeseen 
circumstance that calls for prompt and efl^ective use of these quali- 
ties. A vast amount of property is destroyed, or, it may be, life 
itself put in jeopardy for the lack of this most desirable combina- 
tion. Those who are naturally thus endowed should guard this 
valuable possession with unceasing care; and mothers, seeing that 
any of their children are deficient in either qualification, should 
spare no eflfort to cultivate it carefully. 

For the lack of a fair portion of courage and self-possession quite 
as many lives are lost as through the threatened calamity. Not 
holding themselves under control, they lose all power of acting 
reasonably, and often rush blindly into the danger they seek to 
avoid. 

When we say that, with some, courage and self-control are found 
from earliest childhood, we don't mean that this development, while 
a child is very young, is apparent in any remarkable degree; 
but all know that in large families, or in a village where many 



100 TRUE COURAGE AND SELF-CONTROL. 

children are thrown together, they soon, and perhaps without any 
words, recognize their leader; and, in times of trouble or danger, 
look instinctively to that one. It may be that he — or she — as 
keenly realizes the danger as any of the party, but, in spite of fear, 
they do not lose self-possession, or the power to face whatever has 
made the others wild with fear. 

We have no doubt that in many children this trait has been 
buried or destroyed by injudicious parents; or, worse, by unscrupu- 
lous servants. If parents are naturally timid themselves, and have 
allowed this weakness to master them, until incapable of exercising 
the slightest self-control, it would be singular if their children did 
not grow up weak and irresolute — unable to keep calm, or act 
judiciouslv at the very moment when their own comfort and safety, 
and that of those depending on them, is in jeopardy. If parents, 
could realize how the young are molded and governed by their 
own conduct, they would labor hard to secure at least the sem- 
blance of self-government when in their children's presence. 

We have known ladies scream, or become almost convulsed, if a 
bug or worm was found on or near them ; or lose half the pleasure 
of a summer in the country through such weakness, because of the 
busy insect life all about them; afraid to touch a rose lest a tiny, 
neat little Avorm or a rose-bug should have sought food and shelter 
among the leaves. 

When mothers betray such weakness it is not necessary to see 
their children to understand that they will naturally be equally fool- 
ish. Now and then we may see one more sensible in a family where 
the children are brought up to see such weakness daily manifested 
by the mothers. Or, on reaching the years of maturity, the germs 
of self-control or true presence of mind, that have been choked and 
dwarfed by the mother's weakness, but fortunately, perhaps, kept 
alive by the father's teachings, or their own inherent strength, may 
develop all the nerve and self-control necessary to make a noble 
character. 

We have been led into this train of thought by an account of the 
courage and self-possession of a lady in New Orleans under circum- 
.stances of the most startling character, when a moment's wavering 
or weakness would have cost her her life. She was a woman of 



TRVE COURAGE AND SELF-CONTROL. 101 

wealth, with rich surroundings and costly adornments. She was 
that evening alone, with only one servant in the house ; and, laying 
aside some articles of jewelry and replacing them in their appropri- 
ate cases in her bureau, she chanced to raise her eyes to a minor 
opposite. From a night-lamp standing on a table in the opposite 
corner she caught in the mirror a reflection of the figure of a man 
curled up under a center-table, but hidden from all sight save what 
was gained by the reflection cast in the mirror from the himp on 
the floor. In this Avay she saw one of the hands resting on the 
floor. This hand lacked two fingers, and she at once suspected that 
close by her was a most notorious character, whose crimes and dep- 
redations had, been the terror of the neighborhood. Suppose she 
had screamed or made a hurried eflfort to reach the door? That 
would have sealed her fate. But, forcing herself to be calm, she 
finished what she was doing at her bureau and then, quietly stepping 
to the bell, rang for the one servant then in the house. 

When the girl appeared, she said: "Jane, I wish you would step 

to Mr. [naming a jeweler in the neighborhood], and tell him 

I wish he would send me back, immediately, the diamonds he has 
been resetting. They are the most valuable of all I have, and I 
feel uneasy to have them out of the house, and not under my own 
care another night. Tell him to send them to-night, even if not 
done. Wait; I'll write him a note." 

So this brave lady seated herself with apparently the greatest 
composure by the very table where the ruffian was concealed, and 
wrote. We can readily imagine that she wrote not for her dia^ 
monds, but for help. The girl took the note, and alone — absolutely 
alone in the house — save with the fearful object concealed under the 
table, this lady waited. To avoid awakening the least suspicion she 
busied herself in putting various articles away in different parts of 
the room, even humming a tune or little snatches from some opera. 
We can well imagine that she dared not attempt to sing lest 
her voice should betray her. How fearful must have been that 
waiting! How full of joy and safety the sound of the bell when 
the girl returned ! But she came not alone. Her friend promptly 
answered the appeal for help, bringing with him the police, and the 
msiu was captured before he had time to defend himself. 



102 ABE CHUBCH FAIRS BENEFICIAL f 

This story speaks for itself, and, more forcibly than any thing we 
could say, teaches the importance of cultivating courage, governed 
and held firmly by self-control or presence of mind. 



ARE CHURCH FAIRS BENEFICIAL? 

Undoubtedly some church fairs ''are not. Fairs in which wrong- 
dealings are winked at are held in abhorrence by all honest per- 
sons. To follow those who refuse to buy, through the crowd, per- 
sistenly urging them after they have once declined, is a breach of 
politeness. The directors of the fair should act as a police force, 
watchful and vigilant to detect the beginnings of evil. If they do- 
their duty, any equivocal act will soon be detected. Among the 
young, particularly, a desire to make rapid sa-les, and have their 
receipts swell beyond some other tables, sometimes tempts them ta 
resort to various schemes to effect their object ; and if this propen- 
sity is not nipped in the bud, a f lir may exert an evil influence 
that will far overbalance the good that may be obtained. 

Rafiling should not be tolerated for a moment, or any device 
akin to a lottery. There are a thousand ways by which these 
chance operations obtain access to some of the departments in a 
fair, and it will require determination on the part of the directors 
to keep them out. Grab-bags, cakes with one ring, where a dozen 
children buy a piece, hoping to get the ring, and turn away disap- 
pointed and envious of the lucky one ; trees with little bags filled 
with candy, in one or two of which there is a ring or some orna- 
ment — each of these is a species of gambling. Every child who 
spends its three or five cents at the grab-bag hopes to be the lucky 
possessor of something worth more than the money put in. If he 
finds the money spent for naught, he goes away justly feeling that 
he has been cheated ; or, with the rashness of the true gambler, 
continues to risk the few pennies that he has, hoping for "better 
luck" next time. In that seemingly trivial operation he has, per- 
haps, laid the foundation of a; habit that will be his destruction. 



ARE CHURCH FAIRS BENEFICIAL* 103 

And the same is true of the one who has been over-successful. He 
tries it again, and is not likely to forget that, in a trial of chance, 
he was the lucky one. The same is true of the ring-cake and the 
candy-bags, where the purchaser has a chance for a ring. We have 
heard parents complain that their children spent all their money 
buying the candy-bags from the trees, hoping to get the ring, but 
came home crying because they had spent their money for naught. 

A great dishonesty is often practiced by refusing to make change 
for things purchased. We were told a few days since by a gentle- 
man, that he went into a fair a short time previous and made a 
purchase of two or three dollars' worth from a very bright and intel- 
ligent young lady, and, having no change, handed her twenty dol- 
lars. He waited a few moments, then said: 

" I'll take my change, if you please." 

" Oh ! we give no change," the young lady replied. 

"Now," said the gentleman, " I have done with fairs. They all 
tend to make those engaged in them dishonest. I would never trust 
that young lady again." 

Taking "chances," or buying articles "on shares," are two very 
different things. The "chance" is neither more nor less than a 
lottery — a species of gambling. Buying on "shares" is a strictly 
commercial transaction, a partnership concern, when each one who 
buys a " share," is so far the owner of the article, has just so much 
invested in it, and when, from the beginning, it is understood that, 
when purchased, it is to be presented to some one upon whom they 
agree, each one who buys a share or helps to pay for the goods is 
a joint donor of the article when presented. 

The other objection to a fair, the overwork consequent on a fair, 
is plausible. The work is somewhat hard ; but hard work is 
not injurious unless carried to great extremes. Some daily em- 
ployment, requiring energy, perseverance and regularity, is abso- 
lutely necessary to good sound health, and the best tonic for those 
in feeble health. 

Every year many of our ladies, not yet touching even middle 
age, break down from nervous exhaustion, and none of them be- 
cause of hard labor. On the contrary, it is because all household 
labor is delegated to servants, and the mistress devotes some part 



104 ABE CHURCH FAIBS BENEFICAL f 

of her time to fancy work, or dressing her children like French 
dolls, and the rest, and by far the largest portion to parties, fash- 
ionable calls, balls, the opera or theater — out in heated rooms in. 
exciting entertainments till late hours. No hard work for fairs or 
household employment will so strain the strength, break down the 
nerves and wither the roses, as a life of fashionable excitement. 

We have just passed seven weeks of steady work for a fair, which 
was not, so far as close and constant supervision of the managers 
could prevent, liable to any of these criticisms. It was carried on 
honestly. Goods offered for sale were sold at the regular retail 
price — some were sold for less. If there was any thing sold by 
chances — any thing that approached raffling or lottery — it was so 
done as to be unknown to the managers. There was no ill-temper, 
no envious spirit manifested. The work was done as it would have 
been in a well-organized family. They were all working for one 
cause, not ambitious to have their portion of the work recorded with 
the "highest mark," but content that the whole should be a tri- 
umphant success. There was no chance for collision, and no indi- 
cation of a disposition for any. Many new friends were made who 
will never be forgotten ; many old friendships were made brighter 
and stronger by the daily intercourse of seven weeks, and the crown- 
ing success at the end. 

No doubt there have been many fairs as successful and as free 
from any approach to wrong means for securing success, but we 
doubt if there have been many which will have as fragrant memo- 
ries, which have been so free from unfair sales, so free from any 
heart-burnings and ill-temper. We believe we shall all be the bet- 
ter in our church relations, closer in our friendships, more ready to 
work together in every good cause ; yea, cordially and heartily 
looking forward to, or seeking for, something to bring us all 
together again, ready for every good word and work. 

If there were no greater good resulting from a fair than bringing 
the congregation of a church into close and active sympathy with 
each other, and also with sister churches who are ready to co-oper- 
ate in the work, it would richly pay for all the trouble. Let it 
once be fully understood that the work will be so directed, that no 
element unworthy of an honest nature and a Christian character 



KEEP YOUR DAUGHTERS NEAR YOU. 105 

will be tolerated, and it will not be long before they will be known 
and patronized by all as being a healthful and beneficial institution ; 
not so much for the funds raised, as for the social, kindly feelings 
secured. 



KEEP YOUR DAUGHTERS NEAR YOU. 

Mothers should not only be the guardians of their daughters, 
but their most intimate companions and friends. We have long 
felt that parents make great and sometimes ruinous mistakes by 
sending their daughters away from home during the latter years 
of their education, delegating a mother's watchful care to strangers 
or boarding-school matrons and teachers, who, however excellent, 
must, of necessity, find it impossible to give any special supervision 
to each scholar among so many. This idea, of course, presupposes 
that the mother is what her Maker designed her to be — the watch- 
ful guardian of her daughters' health and characters. There are 
cases, to be sure— and. alas! too many of them — where the mothers 
are so thoroughly devotees of fashion that their children are a 
secondary consideration. The only hope for the future usefulness 
and stability of the daughters of such mothers is to remove them 
as far from maternal influence and example as possible; and that is, 
indeed, a forlorn hope. 

But although "quite the style" to send our girls away from 
good homes and a good mother's watchful care as soon as they have 
mastered the rudimentary part of their education, it surely can not 
be the wisest plan. To suffer our young and as yet immature 
children to pass out from under home care and its formative influ- 
ence just as they have reached that critical period in their lives 
when they are the most susceptible to all good or evil teachings, is 
a fearful experiment. This is the time when they can be easily 
built up into a true and noble womanhood, or led into by or for- 
bidden paths. Their quick impulses or unregulated imaginations, 
at this age, tend to all kinds of sentimental extravagances, which 



106 KEEP YOUR DAUGHTERS NEAR YOU. 

only a mother's watchful love and unslumbering care will detect 
and judiciously modify or dispel. 

We do not mean that mothers should themselves attempt the 
education of their daughters at home. Under the wisest regula- 
tions, home is not the best place in which to study, or the mother, 
with all her other cares and constant interruptions, the most suc- 
cessful teaclier as far as book-teaching is concerned. But mothers 
can not afford to have their girls far away from them. They should 
be their loving companions when the school hours are over for the 
day, and ever ready to join with them in such amusements as are 
necessary for healthful change and needful recreations. A mother 
should know the habits and characters of those who are their 
daughters' chosen companions, or who may, at times, be desirable 
escorts on certain occasions. 

But, instead of this, our girls are taken from home and all its 
best influences, and placed among strangers. No mother can hope 
to secure such hold on her girls, through their affectionate remem- 
brance of her, as will best guard them from many of the dangers 
that beset the unwary and inexperienced, or save them from the 
snares that are too often concealed to entrap our loveliest and our 
best. We surely should be able to furnish schools of the highest 
order so near us that our children can, after school hours, have 
the comforts of home and be shielded by paternal love. 

Nowhere do we see greater cause for anxiety and alarm than for 
those daughters whose mothers find it necessary to leave their 
homes during the winter months, and often for a longer period, for 
their health's sake. Many who are thus banished have the wis- 
dom to take their children with them, to be placed in the best 
schools in the vicinity of their own boarding-places. Indeed, many 
mothers, to secure a good education for their daughters, and yet 
keep them under their own care and daily supervision, take rooms 
where they can be sure of the best facilities for education, and 
make a temporary home there. 

What we greatly desire, and Avhat we see no good reason to pre- 
vent, is that those who are interested in all educational improve- 
ments, and have wealth to secure it, should give a portion of their 
influence and money to establish schools in our own land, placed in 



KEEP YOUR DAUGHTERS NEAR YOU. 107 

locations where the invalid flees for refuge from Northern snow 
and cold. 

Being every spring a few weeks in Florida, where invalids "most 
do congregate," we have had frequent occasion to notice how de- 
sirable some such establishments must be. Many mothers, who- 
must spend their winters in this soft, balmy air, are compelled to 
leave their daughters in schools at the North, or bring them with 
them here, and thus break up their regular studies for six or eight 
months at a time. We all understand how undesirable such inter- 
ruptions are; how it must waste a large part of the school life, 
and break in upon habits of thorough methodical study. Such 
habits, once interrupted, are not easily resumed. 

No better work could be done, and none more remunerative, 
than to establish first-class schools and seminaries in this section of 
our country. Florida is now clearly recognized as the home, or 
best resort, for our Northern invalids. If, therefore, mothers find 
that they can come here, where husbands and sons can so easily 
join them in case of need, or for occasional visits, and can bring 
their daughters with them, without interrupting their education, it 
will remove a large part of their anxiety, and give them a better 
chance for regaining their own health. When such schools are 
placed all along the banks of the lovely St. John's — where the beau- 
tiful villages now springing up, only need good schools and hotels, 
or first-class boarding-houses, to make them perfect — there will be 
;io longer a necessity for so many of our best citizens going into 
exile in foreign lands; for they can find all, and more, in their own 
country, and near their own kindred. For salubrity of climate, 
beauty of scenery, pure and balmy air, and choice fruits and flow- 
ers, Floirda rivals Italy. 

Where can you find in foreign land 
So dear a spot — so sweet a strand " 

as on the St. John's River on one side, or the St. Mark's on the 
other, or through the interior among the numerous large lakes of 
this State? 

Now, let the best boarding-houses, the fine hotels and first-class 



108 GROWING OLD. 

schools be established here, and our native land can offer attrac- 
tions and advantages not to be surpassed by any other country 
under the sun. 



GROWHSTG OLD. 



If we truly believe that this life is simply a preparatory state, 
"where we are being fitted to enter another and better life, why 
should we shrink from the approach of old age ? It but brings us 
nearer to the full enjoyment of that blessedness for which most are 
supposed to be striving. Those whose own hearts bear witness 
that they are not living in this probationary state, in a manner 
that will insure them an entrance to the joys of that better world, 
have good reason to dread old age and all its infirmities ; for they 
realize that these are warnings of the coming change, when the 
acts of their whole lives, the thoughts of their hearts, not even 
manifested by word or act, will be fully revealed. 

But even among the best, whose lamps are kept trimmed and 
burning, this repugnance to growing old is frequently manifested. 
This arises, no doubt, in part from the uncertainty of what that 
change will be, knowing that if they have lived aright it must be 
most blessed, yet still shrinking from the first step into this un- 
known, untried future. 

Said a little girl, just hovering between life and death: "I am 
willing to die, mamma; but if yuu could only go with me, and lay 
my hand in His, mamma, for I am not really acqvmnted witli Jesus; 
and you know how timid I am about meeting strangers, even when 
1 have learned to love them." 

That little girl touched the true reason why good people so often 

" Stand shivering on the brink." 

But that shrinking from the untried is not all. As we grow old 
we look back on the past and see much that we could have done 



GROWING OLD. 109 

better ; so much good that we have carelessly neglected to do ; so 
many of the sorrowful ones that we have passed by without giving, 
at least, sympathy; so many sick that we have not ministered 
unto ; so many fallen, to whom we have not stretched strong and 
willing hands. 

It is this long list of mistakes — if not sins — that robs old age of 
the sweet peace in watching for the great change that is near. 

Ah! if we could go back, still holding in our hearts the clear 
memory, the full consciousness of our mistakes in the past — every 
neglected duty, every unkind act or word — and have the privilege 
of making a second trial, of living again the whole of the three- 
score years and ten, or at least from the period when first capable 
of judging between right and wrong! 

But even with the first life spread out, ever before us like a chart, 
should we really improve upon the past? God only knows. And 
that He does not grant this second trial, argues that it is not for 
the best. He who doeth all things well, doubtless sees what the 
result would be. 

But this is idle speculation. The word of God, the whole map 
of human life that lies spread out before us, our own knowledge 
of good and evil, the good deeds of those that have gone before, or 
are now making the world brighter and better by their daily walk 
and conversation, all are ready to guide us safely, and keep us 
from stumbling, if our hearts are open to such influences, and 
really desirous of doing our duty. 

Anxiety for children not yet established in life is another cause 
for our reluctance to accept old age and its infirmities, when it 
begins to herald its approach. We are not ready to have our 
children grow out from our care, our restraining influence; and even 
when well settled, and leading a life quite independent of us, we are 
not easily reconciled to the weaknesses and feebleness that are the 
usual signals of the advancing old age. It is hard to believe that 
we are no longer necessary to the comfort and well-being of our 
children. It takes years to realize that they have grown away 
from us; that, for all practical purposes, we are no longer needed by 
our children — loved and honored, to be sure, as souvenirs of their 
youth, but they find themselves able to pass on successfully without 



110 GROWING OLD. 

iAxv help. To see that those whom we watched over, and gave our 
rest and strength — almost our lives for — have grown far beyond any 
thing that we can do for them, except to love them to the last of 
life — this is hard. 

But when two have journeyed from early youth to the verge of 
old age — have seen their children grow up and scatter, making sep- 
arate homes for themselves, as is perfectly right and natural — then, 
if one stumbles and passes into old age and its infirmities before 
the other, no longer keeping even pace together, to be, or to be 
supposed incapable of any longer bearing the burden and heat of 
the day together — one bright .and full of energy, the other no 
longer called upon for active service — that is the one thing most to 
be dreaded in giowinj old. An early death with the full harness 
on, would be far preferable. 

But the poison, the bitterness of even that sharpest pang, may 
be somewhat softened, if, while in full health and strength, one 
endeavors to live so truly and faithfully for the comfort and hap- 
piness of others, that they shall leave all along their lives, some 
bright spots that can not grow dim, even when they are laid aside. 
Such lives can not die out. Their memory will always live in the 
hearts of their best beloved. After their ever-busy lives, have 
closed, what they really did of good to others will be more truly 
recognized, and more lovingly appreciated, than when those loving 
acts were an every hour's occurrence. Even if one does not de- 
rive all the comfort and support from this thought, in after life, 
which is their due, still it is a good memento to leave behind us, 
because such lives bring blessings to others. 

" This thought I give you all to keep : 
"Who soweth good seed shall surely reap. 
The year grows rich as it groweth old 
And life's last sands are its sands of gold." 



POLITENESS AT THE TABLE. lU 



POLITENESS AT THE TABLE. 

We all know how much more comfort and enjoyment a well- 
appointed table — with its snowy linen, clear glass, bright silver or 
plate — can give, than one where no attention is paid to cleanliness, 
order, or taste in its daily arrangement. There is, of course, an 
effort always made to secure something like neatness and j)leasant 
appearance when guests are invited; but it is by the common home 
life that one judges of the peculiar characteristics of the mistress 
of the house, and of her family. With some, the one prominent 
idea is to have an abundance on the table, which must be cooked 
in the best manner. How it is dished, in what shape it comes to 
the table, or whether the table is properly set, or the articles on it 
neat and well matched, is in their eyes of secondary importance. 
Now, this is a great mistake. It is important that food should be 
well cooked, and as abundant as is needful; but we can not imagine 
that one can relish food carelessly thrown on a table that is set in 
a slovenly manner. To sit at such a table is enough to rob one of 
all appetite, and to make the best cooking in the world distasteful. 
A fresh table-cloth, neatly arranged, well cleaned and polished 
dishes, the mistress and all who gather about her neatly attired, 
amiable and respectful in their manners, will give a rehsh to the 
plainest food, and less superior cooking. Light hearts, loving 
words, gentle and courteous attention, each esteeming the "other 
better than themselves," in all "honor preferring one another" — 
these are the best appetizers, and will make more happy homes 
than the costliest dainties poorly served by an irritable, untidy 
mistress, and partaken of by selfish, ill-mannered, discourteous 
children. 

Poor taste and carelessness in the arranging of the table are 
bad enough, but lack of politeness, a display of bad manners, at 
the table is worse. Are parents less careful in teaching their 
children good manners at the table than they were years ago ? It 
is not uncommon to see children, from the oldest to the youngest, 
reach across the table and help themselves, instead of politely 



112 POLITENESS AT THE TABLE. 

asking for what they require, and waiting patiently till it can be 
served. Some children seem to prefer to get their food in a rude 
manner. If they can not reach it they stand on the rounds of 
their chairs to be able to stretch farther, or leave their chairs, and 
go round the table for what they want. They drink fast, eat fast, 
and fill their mouths so full and so rapidly that, if not choked, the 
wonder is that half the children do not die of indigestion. 

If no attention is paid by the parents to their children's habits 
of eating, what can one expect but that they should with these 
habits acquire a large and very annoying stock of selfishness— eager 
to secure the best on the table, before any one else is helped — vexed 
if a brother or sister is served first, or snatching the food from 
each other with a snarl, as animals growl over their food? If no 
attention is paid to their deportment while eating, very few chil- 
dren will acquire pleasant table manners. Aside from eating too 
fast, they make others, particularly those who sit near, uncomfort- 
able by the disagreeable noises they make in chewing their food, 
smacking their lips, and other very annoying ways of disposing of 
their food in the shortest possible time. 

Why do not all parents look beyond their children's early days, 
and see how awkward they will be when grown up, if allowed to 
contract such rude manners in childhood? Why not begin early 
to teach their little ones to eat slowly, without any noise, to fold 
their napkins, to lay their knives and forks on their plates in the 
proper position, side by side, instead of leaving them on the table- 
cloth, or thrown carelessly on the plate ? Why not teach them to 
sit quietly when they are through their meals till the rest of the 
family are ready to rise, unless the school compels them to leave 
earlier? In that case, why should they not be taught from the 
beginning that they should not leave the table without asking to be 
excused? That permission granted, why not teach them to rise 
quietly, without pushing their chairs rudely back, and, on leaving 
the room, to say "good morning?" Instead of this, so easily 
learned if parents will only give a little attention to it, how many 
children, without regard to the comfort of those who remain, jump 
off their chairs, giving them a push, often so roughly as to send 
them over, leaving their napkins, perhaps, on the floor, and their 



POLITENESS AT THE TABLE. 113 

plates, knives and forks in a disgustingly untidy condition, and 
then, with a boisterous flourish, loud talking, without the slightest 
semblance of respect for others, rush from the room and house 
with as wild a clatter and racket as if a drove of animals had been 
let loose! 

If this was only one of the little things which belong to early 
childhood, and which would pass off" as they grow older, it could 
be endured. But rough, rude, ill-mannered children seldom make 
refined, courteous, respectful men and women ; and if of a proud, 
sensitive nature, and quick to observe, they will, while recognizing 
their deficiencies, shrink from being in society, and become 
awkward, ill-tempered and morose men and women. 

Any kind of rudeness and all ill-mannered acts, if unchecked at 
the beginning, will lead to others. When children are allowed 
every liberty at the table, the same license will be taken in other 
things. In how many families of the present time are children: 
taught that it is the height of rudeness to interrupt another when 
talking? It is enough to make a person dumb to attempt to carry 
on any cojiTersation, when irrelevant remarks are constantly thrown 
in. If one is telling a story it is almost impossible to go through 
with it, with any hope of interesting those present, if repeatedly 
interrupted with comments, questions or criticisms. Let all this 
come after the first speaker has finished. That interruptions are 
not only annoying to most people, but after awhile completely si- 
lence some people, will be readily understood. It is too evident 
for any one to doubt. Yet those very ones who the least like to 
be interrupted are often the most ready to practice such rudeness, 
on others. 

What is the hurry? Surely any remarks worthy of utterance 
will keep till the one speaking has finished. But if parents commit 
such rudeness before their children, would it not be strange if their 
children did not follow their example ? How many things parents 
carelessly do, while children are young, that look too insignificant 
to notice, but which will be found to have sunk deep, taken root, 
and year by year grow stronger and stronger, until they become 
grave faults that cause the parents great sorrow, and seriously 
injure, if not destroy, the child. 

o 



114 FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT.' 



FAMrLIARITT BREEDS CONTEMPT. 

Few pass through life without being often compelled to recognize 
the correctness of the old and homely adage, " Familiarity breeds 
contempt." Too great familiarity, even with intimate friends, may 
not always be desirable, or lead to happy results, and, beyond a 
certain line, is a license that refined and well-mannered people 
never venture upon. It is a fault that usually springs up in 
early youth, and in its first stages is passed by with little notice, 
or as a childish foible — rather amusing than annoying. But if 
parents sufier this aggressive element to take root and grow with 
the child to maturity, it then becomes a settled habit, hard, if not 
impossible, to eradicate, and very offensive to all who come under 
its influence. Individuals so afflicted have doubtless many very 
excellent traits — kind-hearted to all, it may be, honest and true in 
all their dealings; yet no one, knowing their weakness, cares to 
associate with them, but takes every opportunity to pass by on the 
other side, and keep as remote from them as possible without trans- 
gressing the rules of good breeding. 

There are specimens of over-familiarity, however, that deserve 
and can only be met by open contempt. What can be more em- 
barrassing and exasperating than to hear a perfect stranger, in 
some public conveyance, where escape is impossible without attract- 
ing attention, begin to ask questions or make remarks, as if on the 
mj3st intimate terms with his, or her fellow-travelers, with a free- 
dom, indeed, that would not be tolerated in the most intimate 
family relations? To be sure, there is a class who really know no 
better — who have lived where they had no opportunity for improve- 
ment, or any example or teaching to arouse them to a sense of the 
gross impropriety of such familiarity. For such, one can find some 
excuse, and feel a good degree of commiseration. But, however 
charitably one may be inclined to look on such peculiarities, it is 
none the less pitiable to feel how barren that mind must be, how 
little food for thought it must possess, which finds excitement or 
interest in asking how many yards of material is used in the dress 



FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT. 115 

of a perfect stranger, with whom they are not likely ever to meet 
again; hovv much she gave for it; what size shoes she wears; how 
many pairs she buys a year, and an interminable list of questions 
of like character. 

But there is another side to over-familiarity that is more likely to 
cause acute pain than any feeling of contempt. We refer to the 
abuse of the natural familiarity springing out of the closest family 
intercourse. Nowhere are the laws of good society so liable to be 
set aside or overlooked. When held in check by that genuine good 
breeding and politeness which springs from a sensitive conscience 
and a pure and noble heart, the familiarity of family love and 
home relations only becomes a playful tenderness, that leaves no 
sting, and causes no discomfort. But how often is love abused, 
and the tenderest relations looked upon as furnishing license for im- 
politeness and neglect, which no one dares venture to manifest to 
strangers, or even to intimate friends. If unkind words are spoken 
by the stronger, or ruling power in a family, it is because the ties 
that bind them together are his safeguard. There is a sense of 
security against exposure in family pride, in part; but stronger 
than that in the womanly love that seeks to hide all ei-rors. The 
wife, sistei' or daughter are often spoken to by the' "gentlemen" 
of the house as the latter would not venture to address any other 
woman, however insignificant. But more particularly is this so 
toward the wife. A brother finds no particular charm in being 
sharp to his sister, who will probably resent and retort ; and a 
father has usually a peculiar tenderness for a daughter that saves 
her from sharp words. But how often the restraints of society 
prove a stronger protection to the wife from her husband's censures 
or stern words than his affection or regard for her sensibilities! It 
is too often the case that the polite, deferential attentions that a 
woman has a right to expect, will be more frequently proffered her 
by gentlemen outside the family, than within her own household. 

But this cruel, as well as mean and unnatural treatment is not, 
we regret to say, alwaj'S confined to the masculine element in the 
home circle. We wish we could say that a lady never "answers 
back," never returns railing for railing — a sharp retort for a bitter 
fling — or meets discourtesy with equal neglect or perfect indiffer- 



116 BE PATIENT WITH YOUR BOYS. 

ence. "We blush to acknowledge that the wife is perhaps as oftea 
responsible for the beginnings of evil, in this respect, as the hus- 
band. The customs of good society may hold her back from any 
exhibition of temper before outsiders, or from treating any but 
her own with discourtesy. Public opinion has the same hold on 
her as on a man. But all the courtesy and suavity, the deference 
and respectful attention^ exhibited in public, or to friends outside, 
are worthless, in man or woman, if the same disposition is not even 
more earnestly manifested in the sacred precincts of home; kind 
acts, respectful attention, the most perfect courtesy at home — or- 
nowhere. Let all that is found outside be but the overflow of that 
which is unchanging and perpetual in that charmed circle. There 
is where we must seek for the true lady and gentleman. If not. 
fully developed and maintained there, yet prominently exhibited 
elsewhere, the sentiment is spurious — a counterfeit. 

If young people, whether brothers and sisters, or husbands and 
wives, would reflect on this, and guard against any of that famil- 
iarity which destroys true refinement, develops a coarse, hard^ 
character, breeds not only contempt, but, in the end, inevitable 
coldness and estrangement, we should soon see a large increase of 
true gentlemen and ladies — those who wear their politeness more as 
an every-day working garment than as a fancy dress to be used for 
parties and balls, or on state occasions, and then to be folded up. 
and locked out of sight till again needed for public exhibition. 
Those bound together by natural ties, or by marriage, need to ex- 
ercise all the gentleness and forbearance, the courtesy and affec- 
tionate politeness that they possess; and if their whole life at home 
is thoroughly permeated witk such a spirit, it will become trulj 
a second nature. 



BE PATIENT WITH YOUR BOYS. 

In urging mothers, in a preceding chapter, to keep their girls; 
near them as long as possible, we by no means forgot the boys, andl 
the responsibility necessary in the parents' efforts to train them iik 



BE PATIENT WITH YOUR BOYS. 117 

the right way, as far as human love can do it. In most respects, 
the same patient supervision is needed for them as for their sisters; 
but, in addition, there will be needed more anxiety, and more 
gentle watchfulness; because, in many particulars, they differ so 
widely. 

We can hardly imagine that mothers, blessed with a family of 
boys and girls, can join hands with those women who boldly assert 
that both are equally adapted to work side by side in all the vari- 
ous departments and occupations of life. We do not now allude to 
the many discussions as to their intellectual equality; and, in truth, 
we can see no reason why that point need ever require discussion ; 
let deeds sho^ where the greatest strength lies. A few years of 
effort, after each arrives at mature man or womanhood, will so far 
develop such talents as they possess, that each will find their true 
position. Nay, often a daughter manifests a much stronger liter- 
ary or intellectual tendency than either of her brothers. Mothers 
will soon discover this. They also know that boys and girls brought 
up together, governed from infancy by the same laws, having equal 
claims to their parents' care and attention, and daily receiving it, 
will, notwithstanding, develop tastes and characteristics as distinct 
as if they belonged to different nations. No training or discipline 
can make them think or act precisely alike, and in many cases they 
will be strangely dissimilar. 

If the eldest children are daughters, the boys that come after 
may be influenced by them in some degree during childhood, and 
often grow to manhood milder, gentler, and more refined, through 
the example of their sisters. On the contrary, if the eldest are 
boys, the girls are very likely to follow in their footsteps, so far, at 
least, as to be inclined to romp and be more boisterous and less 
refined and delicate in speech and actions, during early girlhood, 
than if boys had not been their leaders and examples. 

Yet, even in these cases, their distinctive characteristics can not 
be mistaken. In their wildest moods of rude, boisterous frolic, in 
which girls sometimes indulge, those traits which mark them as 
set apart for womanhood and its duties, will make themselves 
known and felt. The woman, waiting to be toned and polished for 
a more quiet, gentle and delicate life, shines through all the rough- 



118 BE PATIENT WITH YOUR BOYS. 

ness of wild, hoydenish, healthy girlhood; and equally unmistaka- 
ble signs, though of a widely different character, herald, through 
the boy, the coining man. 

But, while desiring that mothers should keep fast hold of their 
girls as long as they can, what shall we do with the boys? 

It rests with the mothers usually, far more than with the fathers, 
to decide. If the mother is tender, but firm and equitable, over- 
looking misdeeds that do not spring from natural depravity, but 
from the thoughtlessness of youth, with its frolicsome, bubbling, 
effervescing spirits — if she is prompt and ever-watching to know 
whereunto this boisterousuess may tend — always ready with loving 
but restraining hand to check their wild play whenever it ap- 
proaches real wrong or evil — then, we may be sure, such mothers 
■will keep their boys, as well as their girls, where their influence 
will always be stronger and more holy than any other. But with 
the mothers who are constantly restraining and thwarting every 
childish pleasure, giving words of unmerited reproof for every mis- 
take or wayward act, there is danger that their children will be- 
come peevish, selfish and deceitful. Particularly is this the danger 
with boys, who, when out of doors, are beset by the very evils that 
assail them through the uncertain, and often unnatural, discipline 
of boarding-schools. 

Ah ! if some of the mothers who most conscientiously endeavor to 
do their duty by their children, giving cheerfully their own ease, 
strength and comfort to this work, could, while the little ones are 
growing up, act with the same insight and judgment which comes 
to them after this formative work is done, what precious results 
would follow ! How many of our most scrupulous and conscientious 
mothers err by over-governing — over-watchfulness! Their children, 
after a little while, learn to look upon them as "keepers," or spies, 
and do not dream that this irritating supervision comes from im- 
perfect judgment — not lack of affection — in the mothers, who would 
gladly give their own lives to be able to make their children always 
happy while trying to lead them in the straight and narrow path. 
Yet the sense of responsibility which they feel, and which is sup- 
posed to rest upon parents always, makes the little ones shrink from 
them. Conscientiousness is so largely developed in some minds as to 



BE PATIENT WITH YOUR BOYS. 119 

make their lives a perpetual torture to themselves and all who come 
under their influence or control. So strong is the hold that this 
peculiar trait of character has over their whole lives — a trait ex- 
pressed in so many different forms of action — that they are not able 
to distinguish the follies and freaks of joyous childhood from the 
flagrant sins and vices of riper and more responsible age. So they 
mete out the same reproof or punishment to the "toddling wee 
things" that may be merited by a child just on the borders of ma- 
ture life. 

Then sickness, in many cases, is too mighty for some mothers, 
and they indulge in reproof and irritability because their nerves are 
unstrung, and not because the child is deserving of rebuke. Par- 
ticularly is this the case with boys in the family. Boys will be 
boys. They must run and whistle, burst into the house whooping 
like young Indians, forgetful — not regardless — that their mother's 
aching head is not benefited by such a mode of entrance. Who 
more sorry than these young thunderers when they see that they 
have increased the suffering ? Yet how soon is it all forgotten when 
the door closes after them, and they once more feel the invigorating 
air which sets their young blood dancing. 

But the poor mother forgets her own young life, or that which is 
so natural to boyhood's health and buoyant spirits, and therefore is 
not easily appeased, or ready to forego the reprimand which such 
thoughtlessness seems, in her estimation, to deserve. She forgets that 
these wild, noisy boys will ere long shoot up into men — "and learu 
to do without her." 

We have known and felt it all, and, just now, while tossed on 
the restless ocean, as we draw near to home, we are looking back- 
ward over many years, remembering the few little frets and annoy- 
ances, the many perplexities and great mistakes of our life in the 
years that will never come back to us again. When we think that 
the little girls have now grown beyond our guidance or gone to the 
better land ; when we remember that from this time, 

" None but tall and deep-voiced men 
Will, gravely, call us ' Mother,' 
Or we be stretching empty hands 
From this world to the other," 



120 THE PERSEVERING MOTH. 

how we wish we had been more patient, more gentle ! More loving 
we could not have been. But we see, as no doubt all mothers do, 
where we made mistakes, where we could have done more and bet- 
ter for our children, and think, " If we could but take them back to 
the time when they had not learned to do without us ! " 

The mother's overtaxed strength or failing health is often made 
the reason for sending the troop of noisy boys to school ; aad they 
grow up to manhood with a certain love for home and parents, but 
are not much distressed if they find that they must do without it. 
For a few years a home-love is 'kept alive by the quarterly visits 
during vacation — but, mothers, beware! The pleasure and exhila" 
ration of coming home will soon subside if they chance, occasionally, 
to see symptoms of impatience with their sports and noise, or weari- 
ness at any disturbance as vacation draws to a close. If they have 
the least occasion to think that their presence begins to disturb the 
quiet and comfort of those at home, parents may be very sure that 
from that time all the beauty of home-coming will pass out of their 
lives forever. They will, of course, be happy to see home friends 
for a little while, and will feel the necessity of running into port for 
repairs ; but it will be under a feeling of restraint. The sweetness, 
the excitement, the love element will have passed out of sight; and 
to recall it by any extra attentions or indulgence in the future will 
be next to impossible. 



THE PERSEYERING MOTH. 

The inquiries for some sure protection agaifast those persistent 
depredators, the moths, are endless; but so far nothing entirely sat- 
isfactory has been found. All housekeepers, sooner or later, pass 
under the rod. Treasures that have been most carefully preserved 
and protected, are unexpectedly found with the sign-manual of 
these indomitable persecutors of all careful housekeepers written 
upon them in ineffaceable characters. 



THE PERSEVERING MOTH. 121 

Insect-powders, tobacco, camphor, turpentine, cedar closets or 
chests, and many other things are used as a preventive, but not 
always successfully. In part, no doubt, tlie failure may arise from 
the fact that the articles are not perfectly freed from the eggs of 
the moth-miller before being packed away. 

Not long since we noticed in some paper a statement that there 
were moth-barrels now in market that could keep any thing deposited 
in them in perfect safety, because the receptacle was air-tight. 
The informant did not evidently fully understand the peculiarities 
of these barrels. It is not simply because they can exclude all air 
that they give promise of security, but because they are perfectly 
lined inside with thick carbolized paper, which, it is supposed, 
will destroy the eggs and worms by suffocation, if in no other 
way. 

We procured some of these anti-moth barrels this spring, and put 
away our woolens, furs, etc. , in them. It now remains next fall to 
be seen if they have fulfilled all they promised. It may be possi- 
ble for moths to live in air-tight apartments; but if they can live 
in these carbolized barrels, we should think housekeepers may as 
well give up the fight, and acknowledge these busy-bodies masters. 
The atmosphere of a large part of the house is full of the fumes of 
carbolic acid, even now that the barrels are securely headed and 
closely locked. It does not seem possible that life of any kind can 
resist suiTocation. We understand that it is claimed this lining, so 
thoroughly saturated, will destroj' any living thing committed to it; 
and really we feel more hopeful than we ever have heretofore that 
a remedy has at last been found. 

Still faith is not yet sufficiently strong to advise a speedy cessation of 
watchfulness with those who use these barrels. Wait and learn the 
results, after they have had an honest trial; at all events, don't risk 
putting any thing into them for safe keeping until every article has 
been searched and beaten, to remove, if that be possible, every Qgg 
that may have been skillfully hidden in them. It is possible, 
indeed quite probable, that carbolic powder, or carbolized paper, 
will not destroy the egg, although it may suffocate the worm, or 
miller. 



122 THE PERSEVERING MOTH. 

There is one thing that we have found to be often neglected or 
overlooked, in putting up every thing that will attract moths. We 
refer to the feather or hair brushes, or squirrels' tails, so much 
used for dusters. Many housekeepers do not know that some vari- 
eties of the moths are under infinite obligations to all who leave 
these articles exposed, when not in constant use, or when the house 
is closed, and the family absent for weeks. If they are left hanging 
up, unprotected, in a few weeks they will be found adhering to the 
wall against which they hang — glued there by the skill of the in- 
sect which has taken possession — and quivering all over from the 
movements of the worms with which they are filled. If these arti- 
cles are to be left for any time unwatched, they should be all 
washed in hot suds, rinsed and hung out in the bright sun and clear 
air till thoroughly dried. Then bring them in, and draw paper 
bags, with carbolic powder, or Persian powder, put inside, over the 
feathers or hair, bringing the bag some distance up on the handle. 
Tie the bag tightly around the handle, and finish by pasting strong 
paper around where the bag is tied. If this is carefully done, we 
think dusters will come into use in much better condition in the 
fall, than they sometimes do. When in constant use there is no 
danger of these articles being molested; still it will protect them 
from breakage and needless wear if these paper bags are drawn 
over them whenever not in use. Either hang the duster np, or, if 
a long-handled one, rest the handle on the floor and lean the feath- 
ers against the wall in some appropriate corner where it will not be 
broken by a door thrown back violently against it. 

The number and variety of moths are very large; each having 
its own individual preferences, and seeking in its own fields of 
action with an instinct as unerring as if they were gifted with rea- 
soning. Indeed, they make fewer mistakes in their selections, than 
many of that superior race which hunts them with so much indus- 
try. Some of these moths are very beautiful ; but most of them, 
in some way or other, destructive ; and our admiration of their 
brilliant colors and graceful forms is lost in our knowledge of the 
damage they do wherever they find shelter. The salt hay in the 
marshes, the plants and vegetables in our gardens, our fruit and 
ornamental trees, and the shrubbery, watched over with unceasing 



UNCONSCIOUS SELFISHNESS. 123 

care; the hop-vine, the willow and locust, are all more or less in- 
jured by the various kinds of moths that feed upon them. They 
deposit their eggs in our apple, pear, peach and plum trees — where 
they hatch — and the worm feeds on the fruit till it works its way 
out, a full-fledged, brilliant butterfly, ready to follow in its parents* 
work of destruction. The silkworm is the only one that we know 
of, in all the large family of outdoor moths, that ever returns an 
equivalent for the mischief done. 

Then comes the house-moth — the sworn enemy of all good 
housekeepers; the silk-moth, the fur-moth, carpet-raoth and hair- 
moth, the wood, grain and meal moth, all difierent varieties of the 
species, and all working with a skill and energy worthy of a better 
cause. And, both outdoors and in, they are pursued with all man- 
ner of weapons; yet, so far, there seems no diminution of their 
numbers, or safeguard against their raids, unless the carbolized bar- 
rels prove effectual. We watch and wait the result. 

We might add that benzine and naphtha are almost certain de- 
struction for moths in cloths and furniture. We have known of its 
being poured over such articles in large quantities, closing doors 
and windows carefully, and the next day the dead would be found 
fallen from the furniture over the floor, etc. But this inflammable 
stuff sometimes explodes and burns the house up — a consummation 
not to be desired — and, therefore, we do not advise its use, even to 
exterminate moths. 



• UNCONSCIOUS SELFISHNESS. 

"Exclusive regard to one's own interest or happiness — that su- 
preme self-love or self-preference which leads one to direct his 
actions to the advancement of his own interest, power or happi- 
ness, regardless of the interest or comfort of others" — is Webster's 
definition of selfishness ; but another authority calls it a vice utterly 
at variance with the happiness of those who harbor it; and, as such, 
it is condemned by self-love. 



124 XmCONSGIOUS SELFISHNESS. 

These two authorities would seem to contradict each other, if we 
did not bear in mind that self-love may have a twofold interpreta- 
tion. "It may denote that longing for good, or well-being which 
is common to all, entering into and characterizing every special de- 
sire ; and in this case it has no moral quality, being neither good 
or bad." 

But -when it is "applied to a voluntary regard for the gratifica- 
tion of special desires, it is either good or evil, according as those 
desires conform to duty, or are in direct opposition to it. If self- 
love does not degenerate into selfishness, it may be quite compati- 
ble with true benevolence. Real selfishness is always wrong, being 
that regard for one's own interest or personal gratification which 
is fostered and indulged in at the expense, or through the injury 
of others." 

Here we have a clear and definite explanation of one of the most 
subtle and insidious defects of character. A distinct line is drawn 
between it and self-love, with which it is often confounded. But 
selfishness acts under so many plausible guises, that it is not sur- 
prising that it should sometimes be mistaken for other traits of 
character which are perfectly harmless, if properly guarded and 
held in check by a conscientious desire to love our neighbor as 
ourselves. 

Few willingly acknowledge, even to their own hearts, that many 
of their most criminal acts spring from some of the numberless 
forms of selfishness. But let each attempt the work of self-exam- 
ination as before God, and they will be astonished to see in how 
many unexpected nooks and corners of their daily lives this most 
ignoble weakness is lurking, ready to start into active service on the 
most trivial occasions. , 

" Straws show which way the wind blows," and very minute 
things help to form a basis from which, step by step, one can build 
up a general outline that usually gives a tolerably correct idea of 
the real character of those by whom they are surrounded, or with 
whom they are associated. But in this estimate of the characters 
of others, it may be wise to bear in mind that those thus analyzed 
and judged are, from equally small things, reading our characters, 
and with substantially the same results. 



UNCONSCl US SELFISHNESS. 125 

Strange as it may appear, there are many points of character of 
which the nearest friends do not, or can not, form half as correct 
an estimate as a stranger will arrive at in a half-day's observation, 
or as can be secured in a short journey in the cars or steamboat. 
The restraint of home, the desire for the best appreciation of 
friends, are safeguards, and hold in check the free exhibition of 
some of the most unlovely qualities. 

Our most disagreeable traits are more observed than our most 
polished manners; and few are so obscure that they are not no- 
ticed, if they make themselves conspicuous by ill-manners. Steam- 
ers and railroads have nearly abolished private life. One who- 
wishes to remain unknown and undiscovered, should never venture 
on them, but remain quietly at home, and even establish that home 
as near the wilderness as possible. Even there a reporter may 
track the most obscure and quietly-disposed individual, so it is 
safest to be on our good behavior all the time. 

What haste, the moment the doors are thrown open, to rush into 
the cars and secure a good, if not the best, seat ! What pushing, 
and jostling, and crowding ! Having secured the best seat unoccu- 
pied, how very near-sighted people grow — if alone! Those stand- 
ing about, hoping to find one single seat unclaimed, are not seen ; 
but the solitary occupant, with carpet-bag on the seat, has occasion 
to look steadily out of the window, or finds a book or paper ex- 
ceedingly interesting, till the person looking for a place of rest ha» 
passed on. How many of us have done this ! Does conscience 
ever whisper — selfish? 

We can not recall any public place or gathering where the dis- 
play of selfishness is not observable. In many cases, we are sure,, 
the transgressors are not conscious of it; and we are happy to be- 
lieve, in most cases, that did they realize how much discomfort, 
inconvenience — and even physical suffering, often — their selfishness, 
or, as in such cases we prefer to call it, thoughtlessness, occasioned,, 
they would hasten to correct this bad habit. Many people would,, 
no doubt, be surprised if told that some special habit of theirs, 
causes so much discomfort to others as to make them shrink from, 
public assemblies where they will be sure to be annoyed by it. 

For instance, who imagines, except those who suffer from it, that 



126 UNCONSCIOUS SELFISHNESS. 

the use of the fan in churches, concerts and lectures is a source of 
intense discomfort to some who must, of necessity, receive the full 
benefit of the draught. Now, those who imagine they are really 
made cooler or more comfortable by the labor of fanning, have a 
perfect right to pursue this industry, however much those who 
never use a fan may be inclined to doubt the comfort derived from 
it. But is it kind to use one's independent rights to the discomfort 
of others? Any one with a tendency to sore-throat, weak lungs, 
or liable to take cold from a draught, often receives serious injury 
from the incessant motion of fans in public places. In cases of 
fainting, the fan may be used with benefit ; but first be well assured 
that it is a genuine fainting fit, and not prostration from some 
trouble of the heart. We have seen cases when fanning under 
such circumstances would have been, perhaps, fatal, if some one 
had not been near to stop the injudicious kindness. 

We wish to be impartial ; and having given our own sex the 
benefit of these suggestions, it is but fair to notice some habits 
that might degenerate into selfishness among the stronger sex. 

We run no risk in calling the use of tobacco a selfish habit. If 
our fathers, sons, brothers, and "other folks'" husbands — ours does 
not — who smoke or chew, would indulge only in their ofiices, or 
when with those who also enjoy the habit, then we should feel that 
they were using their privileges, but not abusing them by making 
others uncomfortable. But when we see young men and boys 
smoking in the streets — where any one who passes them can not 
avoid the fumes, however disagreeable — we can not refrain from 
thinking that those who smoke must be selfish. When we see gen- 
tlemen smoking while riding with ladies, can we avoid calling it a 
selfish habit? But we mu.«t confess we have our doubts if many 
deserving the name of gentleman, will do so rude a thing, unless 
the lady or ladies have assured them that the smell of tobacco 
"was not at all disagreeable — indeed, they rather liked it." Still, 
we fear we must acknowledge that few would fill their homes with 
the fumes of tobacco if the ladies of the house would honestly, but 
gently, tell them, what is almost always the truth, that the odor 
was really annoying and disagreeable. If, therefore, gentlemen 
carry this selfishness, which is so noticeable in all lovers of tobacco. 



FLOWERS FOR THE BEAD. 127 

into their homes, they certainly have reason to feel that their lady 
friends are in some degree responsible. 

"But," says a young wife, "if I object to my husband's smoking 
in the house, that will drive him to seeking tliat enjoyment away 
from home, and very likely among companions who will do him no 
good. For that reason I make no objection, but tell him I don't 
dislike it." 

If there is any danger of husbands or sons wandering from home 
when not allowed to smoke there, of course it is better, by far, to 
submit to the discomfort; but it should be distinctly understood 
that it is endured on the principle of choosing the least out of two 
evils. But, certainly, it is not right to say it is not disagreeable, 
unless you really do not find it so. That is catering to selfishness 
at the expense of truth. 



FLOWERS FOR THE DEAD. 

"Do you fancy the custom of putting flowers about the dead 
at funerals, or having a large quantity in the room?" 

Yes, and no. It depends largely on the true motive — the real 
feeling which prompts the gift. Sore hearts yearn to do something 
which will give visible sign of the respect, esteem or love felt for 
those who have gone before, or to cheat their grief by some signs 
of brightness and life near the still, cold form. 

This custom was not common forty or fifty years ago; and when 
first introduced was a pleasant and happy relief from the intense 
funereal gloom of an apartment full of long black veils, and gar- 
ments heavy with somber crape, as though the blacker the room 
the deeper must be the afiliction that called the assembly together. 

A few choice flowers of quiet colors and delicate perfume placed 
in the cold hand, laid on the pillow or breast, seem to us more 
appropriate than the elaborate floral offerings — but this is a matter 
of taste. It is not the way in which such offerings are arranged, 
or their quantity or quality, that need be criticised, but the motive. 



128 FLOWERS FOB THE DEAD. 

We have been more deeply affected by the clumsy arrangement 
of some coarse flower — all that the half-starved mother can gather 
and water with her tears as she puts it in her poor baby's little 
fleshless hand — than by costly treasures that are brought from 
the conservatories of the rich; for they brought in of their abun- 
dance, but this poor woman, of her want, did bring all that she 
had. The very poverty of the token she buries with her child, 
over whose sufferings she has wept, and, for its sake more 
than her own, bewailed her lack of comforts, reveals the depth 
of her love. 

But flowers displayed for no reason but that the custom has 
made it appropriate, are idle offerings, and any pleasure or com- 
fort they may give will be as short-lived as the flowers themselves, 
leaving no fragrance in the memory. To be sure, flowers are often 
sent in by neighbors, who are not personal acquaintances, as tokens 
of respect, and of the sympathy we all feel for those into whose 
hoiuL's death had entered, or by friends unable to be present, as 
assurances of remembrance and sympathy. Thr.s sent, the family 
afflicted can not fail to appreciate the attention. 

But there are "flowers for the dead" that seem to us profana- 
tion, though the}'' may be offered as tokens of a too-late awakening 
to the giver's habitual neglect. We have seen and known such 
cises. There are families among whom no token is ever seen by 
which it can be known that love is the bond which holds the mem- 
bers together. The atmosphere in which they live is charged with 
selfishness, irritability, sharp language, and bitter retort. Yet, 
w.iea death removes some member of such a family, he is evidently 
an unexpected guest; one that they have never apprehended, and 
often the shock is overwhelming. Then, it may be, the love, if 
there was any, that has long lain dormant will come to the sur- 
face, and, for a time, change the whole atmosphere of that house- 
hold. To the survivors gentler words will be spoken, -and some inter- 
est manifested for the comfort and peace of the whole. And for the 
dead every effort will be made to undo the past by useless care and 
thoughtfulness, when the heart can no longer respond or recognize 
the attention. Flowers will be lavishly strewn over one who now 
heeds them not, but in life, it may be, would have been soothed 



FLOWERS FOR THE DEAD. 129 

and comforted, if not made better and nobler, by such sweet tokens 
of interest. Ah ! all too late comes this tardy awakening. And 
will it last, or the repentance be as evanescent and short-lived as 
the flowers themselves? 

If the dead can realize what passes around them after their eyes 
are closed, and the mourners go about with muffled tread, how they 
must be amazed at the attentions manifested after they can no 
longer profit by them, and at the offerings that they can not enjoy! 
It is the mockery, the utter uselessness of such acts or marks of 
regard or affection, if they have never been manifested during life, 
that in such cases deprives the flowers of their fragrance, and 
destroys their appropriate mission of comfort and peace. 

" You placed this flower in her hand, you say? 
This pure, pale rose in her hand of clay ! 
Methinks, could she lift her sealed eyes, 
They would meet your own with a grieved surprise 1 

When did you give her a flower before? 
Ah ! — well, what matter, when all is o'er? 
Yet, stay a moment; you'll wed again — 
I mean no reproach — 'tis the way of men ; 

" But, I pray you, think, when some fairer face 
Shines like a star from her wonted place, 
That love will starve if it is not fed — 
That true hearts pray for their daily bread." 

Yes; bring flowers for the dead — for parents, for brothers and 
sisters, for children, and the dearer companions who should be as 
one — bring them as love-tokens, feebly expressing the sweetness and 
beauty of the life that is finished here, to bloom more gloriously in 
heaven — bring them as tokens of respect, or as symbols of repent* 
ance for past neglect or heedlessness; but, if for the last reason, 
save a few of the roses that the cold hand has chilled and whitened, 
to keep you from forgetting past mistakes or sins; to make you 
more gentle, more thoughtful, whatever may be the relation yoi» 
bear to others. If you have failed in your intercourse with one 
now removed from you, the flowers placed in the coffin should be 
tokens for you henceforth to bear in mind that the faults of the 



130 UNFORTUNATE RESEMBLANCES. 

dead may have been engendered or increased from your mistakes 
or failures; that 

" Love will starve if it is not fed — 
And true hearts pray for their daily bread." 



UNFORTUNATE RESEMBLANCES. 

The least attractive of all animals — the swine — it is said, are 
superior to man — in this respect: they can not be induced to touch 
tobacco or intoxicating liquors. We will not vouch for the truth 
of this statement, having never seem them tempted. We mistake! 
We did once see the cherries frOm a cask in which black-cherry- 
brandy had been made emptied into the hog-yard. The whole ran 
tumultuously, with every sign of joy, to the spot, evidently ex- 
pecting a sumptuous repast. The article did not exactly resem- 
ble their usual rations, and, when close by, prudence, for a moment, 
controlled their appetite. Then one ventured to approach near 
enough to smell, but backed off with a most dissatisfied grunt. The 
next was not to be debarred by any such move, and stood directly 
over the heap of tempting cherries, shook his head, retreated a 
little way — watched by his comrade. Inquiring, doubtful, question- 
ing glances passed round the group; but at last the temptation 
through the eye was more potent than the prudence gained through 
the nose, and half a dozen rushed defiantly to the pile with open 
mouths, and plunged their snouts into the mass of brandied cher- 
ries. Words fail to tell the panic, or the expression of disgust, on 
every swinish face, as they ran, squealing, far from the nauseous 
compound, to wash out the vile taste in the less disagreeable con- 
tents of their troughs. 

We can scarcely imagine that any animal could be persuaded to 
touch either tobacco or intoxicating liquors, though, as has been 
the case with many a poor mortal, it may have been stealthily 
administered, as a cruel experiment, or for some worse motive. 

But, from some accounts we have lately seen, it has been found 



UNFORTUNA TE RESEMBLANCES. 131 

that monkeys are exceedingly fond of most stimulating beverages, 
and, like man, can be outwitted and beguiled through these agents 
to their own destruction. We have not been much troubled by 
any of the theories which Darwin and other investigators have 
hinted at, or adopted, in which they see evidences that men may 
have sprang from the monkey, and from thence have worked their 
way up, and developed into their present condition and knowledge. 
Our pride revolts at any such idea; but, if the account to which 
we refer has any truth in it, Darwin has certainly one link in his 
chain of evidence that is not pleasant to contemplate. We give 
from memory, but we think correctly, part of the article to which 
we refer. 

In some parts of Africa the natives compound a kind of fer- 
mented beer, and have learned that monkeys are exceedingly fond 
of it. So they fill calabashes with this beer, and place it on the 
ground in those parts of the forests where they know the monkeys 
most frequent. They hide to watch the result. As soon as one 
of these animals comes in sight of these calabashes, his curiosity 
tempts him to examine, and then test what the dish contains. 

In this he resembles man, to be sure. Curiosity once awakened, 
the spirit of investigation lures him on to experiments. Curiosity, 
it is often said, is one of woman's peculiar characteristics. This 
trait is charged to her for no special reason that we have ever been 
able to discern, save that she first tasted the forbidden fruit. What 
made her do it? Woman's curiosity, it is asserted. We see no 
proof of that either. It is quite possible, if not altogether probable, 
that Adam was exceedingly anxious to try that fruit — in part be- 
cause it was forbidden, and thus somewhat cramped his independ- 
ence — but much preferred that Eve should make the first experi- 
ment. She, in her devotion to her husband, took of the fruit. The 
punishment threatened, not following the instant she tasted, and, see- 
ing only that the tree was good for food, pleasant to the sight, and 
to be desired to make one wise, she was desirous that Adam should 
share with her, and brought of the fruit to her husband. It was 
not till they had hoth tasted that their eyes were opened to see the 
sin and danger that followed so swiftly on their disobedience. Does 
any one suppose that if Eve had been made instantly conscious 



132 UNFORTUNATE RESEMBLANCES. 

of the fearful consequences, that she would have permitted her hus- 
band to partake, and thus share with her the penalty? Would 
she not rather, with a true woman's unselfish love, withhold the- 
tempting fruit from him, and have borne the punishment, even, 
though driven out of Paradise alone, and compelled to wander 
alone through the earth? while Adam, warned by her sorrow from 
disobeying, would have remained in Eden, willing, perhaps — find- 
ing it not good to dwell even there alone — to part with another 
rib, to secure another helpmeet. 

However, this is only a woman's expositlonof the matter; and 
we claim for it no authority. But of late so many theories ha-vte 
sprung up, so many ways of displacing the old landmark, and 
introducing before unthought-of explanations, that we could not 
withstand the temptation to make this digression. So we proceed 
with our extract: 

No sooner does the over-curious monkey taste of the liquor con- 
tained in the calabashes, than— finding it very good, and amply 
sufiicient for many — he utters loud cries of joy to attract his. 
comrades, and call them to partake with him of the feast. 

Once assembled, a wild scene of bacchanalian revelry and riot 
begins. Learning no prudence from any former experience of a 
similar indulgence any more than human beings do, they are all 
soon in such a state of intoxication, that when the negroes in am- 
bush come forward, they feel no distrust, and, looking on them as 
a larger species of their own kind, they accept the hand of their 
captors as that of a friend, to help them off the ground. The 
nearest monkey lays hold of the captive one for support also, no 
longer able to guide himself to a place of repose. Then another 
catches hold of the second, and so on, till the negro, without any 
resistance on the part of his prisoners, leads a staggering band of 
a dozen or more tipsy monkeys into close quarters, where they 
sleep off their drunken folly, and wake, like many a poor mortal, 
to find they have sold their freedom for a very unsatisfactory mess 
of pottage. 

We have given this account as correctly as we could from mem- 
ory, but fear those who seek the intoxicating cup will seek it yet 
again, in nowise deterred by what, in their sober senses, they must. 



THEY WHO HAVE UNDERSTANDING, ETC. 133 

see allies them too closely to that disgusting semblance of mankind, 
the monkey. 

We have no expectation that this statement will influence the 
old and hardened lover of strong drink to reform ; but, through it, 
mothers may teach their children such lessons as will make the 
habit most intensely revolting to them. 



THEY WHO HAVE UNDERSTANDING SEEK 
KNOWLEDGE. 

Every housekeeper should seek to know, as far as possible, the 
history and peculiar qualities of the various productions that come 
under her care, and are used in the numberless articles of food 
prepared by herself or her cook. If not an absolute necessity, this 
knowledge must surely be an infinite satisfaction and pleasure. To 
know where all these articles came from, how they are raised, from 
what portion of the tree or shrub each individual thing Avas pre- 
pared for her use; to learn if it is the blossom, fruit, bark, leaves, 
or roots; whether it comes from a seed or hulb, planted, and, when 
matured, dug up, and prepared for its legitimate use; if it be gath- 
ered from a vine, pickled, filtered, or combined with other condi- 
ments; and just how each thing is prepared so as to make it safe 
and agreeable for food — would be a study deeply interesting to 
any one, and particularly so to the mistress of a family. 

For instance, how many housekeepers know that one of the va- 
rieties of the cassava-tree, from which tapioca is made, has poison- 
ous properties of the most deadly character? There are two kinds, 
both of which are used for food. Both trees have a very close 
resemblance; but the bitter cassava, which is poisonous, has pur- 
plish stalks, while the sweet cassava has green stalks, and is i)er- 
fectly harmless. The root of both — which is the part of the tree 
used — resembles a parsnip. The juice of the bitter cassava is used 
by the Indians to poison their arrows. The root is grated, and the 
pulp subjected to a heavy pressure to remove all the juice, which. 



134 THEY WHO HAVE UNDERSTANDING, ETC. 

is set aside, as soon as separated from the pulp, to settle. After 
a short time a white starch will be deposited on the bottom of the 
dish, leaving the liquid on top as clear as water. This liquid con- 
tains the poison, and is carefully drained off till not a drop remains. 
The white substance which has settled at the bottom — ^just as the 
starch from grated potatoes does — is perfectly free from any poison- 
ous tendency, and is used for starch as well as for food. The pulp, 
also, that remains after it has been subjected to this severe press- 
ure — like pomace in the cider-press — is of the same character as the 
starch ; only, of course, not as nice and pure, although entirely free 
from poison. It is dried by exposure to the heat of the range or 
stove, and then pounded, or ground, and sifted, to free it from 
woody, fibrous particles, and the starch or flour used to make bread- 
puddings or cake. Whatever of the poison that may possibly re- 
main, is evaporated by the heat of cooking. The American In- 
dians, who used the starch for food and the juice for poisoning 
their arrows, certainly manifested a good share of skill and intelli- 
gence; and it seems as if there must have been some scientific 
research before they discovered the process of separating the 
nutritious properties from the poisonous. 

How much do a large majority of housekeepers know of the 
nutmeg ? And of those who are themselves well acquainted with 
natural history, how many endeavor to instruct and interest their 
cooks in the history of this or any other article which they handle 
almost daily? Our cooks may not be particularly interested to 
know that the nutmeg, and many of the spices they use, are brought 
from the Spice Islands — at least, not unless they care to give some 
attention to geography. But would they not listen attentively, and 
with interest, if their employer would pleasantly tell them about 
the nutmeg-tree, as well as many other trees? Would not such 
knowledge, kindly and gently given, be more beneficial to the girl 
than to have her mistress — when necessarily in the kitchen— listen 
to, and join in, the gossipy talk, too common in that region, about 
all the neighbors and their private history, as other girls in the 
vicinity have retailed it, with strange additions, from their own 
imaginations? Instead of listening to, or allowing any talk of the 
neighbors' affairs or habits, as the cook proceeds to prepare the food 



THEY WHO HAVE UNDERSTANDING, ETC. 135 

and grates the spice, engage her interest by a timely question: 
** Wouldn't you like to see the nutmeg-tree when full of fruit, and 
learn how the nut is separated from the shell ? I am sure I should 
be well pleased to watch the work, and learn all about it." 

How many cooks would at once say that they didn't know there 
was any thing done to the nut, only to pick it as one would a Aval- 
nut. Then tell them that the tree is twenty to thirty feet high, 
and res^erables a pear-tree ; the leaves fragrant, five or six inches 
long, of a dark, rich green, somewhat like the orange-leaf on the 
upper side, but whitish beneath. It bears fruit the year round. 
The blossoms come in clusters of five or six, and in shape and size 
are like the lily of the valley. The leaf of the blossom is thick, or 
fleshy, like tube-rose, but a pale yellow, and very fragrant. 

The fruit is about the size of a peach, but shaped like a pear, and 
is inclosed in a husk half an inch thick. When young and tender, 
this is a soft, pulpy substance, and sometimes is scraped oflT, and 
used in India, where it grows, for a preserve ; but if left to mature, 
it is dry and hard and useless. When the fruit is ripe, this out- 
side husk breaks open somewhat like the chestnut burr, or outside 
walnut husk, and inside you will find the true nutmeg, inclosed in 
a false coat, or loose, transparent bag, of a bright scarlet color. 
As the fruit matures, this false membrane covers the nut so entirely 
that only here and there, through the net-work, is the seed visible. 
As it ripens, it loses its bright color, grows dry and hard. This 
coating is the mace of commerce. When ripe, the fruit is gathered, 
the coarse outer cover is removed, and the mace is separated care- 
fully from the nut with a knife, and dried in the sun or by a fire. 
Inside the mace, the nut is still protected by another thin casing, 
and when that is taken off* the true nutmeg is seen. The mace 
is sprinkled with salt and water, when thoroughly dried, to keep 
out molds and insects, and then packed in sacks as it comes to our 
merchants. 

The nutmegs, while still in the third envelope, are placed on 
grates over a slow fire, and dried in a very slow heat until the nut 
rattles in this shell. It is usually two months drying. It is then 
soaked in sea-water, or dipped in milk of lime, to keep off" insects 
in part, but mostly to destroy their germinating power. This was 



136 SVBFA CE- WORK. 

largely done while the Dutch had possession of the Banda group — 
part of the Moluccas — to secure the monopoly of the nutmeg culture, 
and thus prevent their being propagated elsewhere. 

If nutmeg is used in large quantities in cooking, it gives a bitter 
taste, somewhat like pitch-pine. By distillation, a volatile oil is 
obtained, which retains the taste perfectly, but if used in cooking 
it must be greatly reduced ; two drops of the oil are equal to one 
pound of powdered nutmeg. It is used as a medicine, as an aro- 
matic stimulant, or, in larger doses, as a narcotic, but, as a spice 
or medicinally, should never be used in large quantities, as it tends 
to affect the head. For this reason apoplectic or paralytic people 
should not use nutmeg. 



SURFACE -WORK. 



That kind of house-work which is done for show, or to keep up 
the character of a good housekeeper, is not only valueless, but in 
many ways injurious, as well as deceitful. A transient guest, or 
those who have no responsibility in the house, may see nothing to 
criticise, even in going in and out for months ; but after awhile, 
■where work is habitually carelessly done, the evidences will begin to 
be past hiding, an old gray look settles over furniture, pictures, the 
walls of the house, the moldings or carvings on the wood-work; 
the carpets look dingy and ancient, the table-service is under a 
cloud, and if one enters the kitchen these signs of premature old 
age, from neglect, are more noticeable than anywhere else. 

For instance, suppose a careless housekeeper becomes the mistress 
of a new house, and assumes the charge, where every thing is fresh 
from the hands of the manufacturer. Unless absolutely a slattern, 
it must needs be many months before her inefficiency is manifested 
through any marked defacement. But the change is moving silently 
on. Wait a year, and then note how the shadows that follow poor 
housekeeping are settling down over every portion of the house. 
Examine the windows. They have seemed to you clear and fresh, 



SURFACE-WORK 137 

but all at once your eyes are opened to see the dimness spreading 
over them. The curtains have lines of dust in the folds, the cor- 
nices in several points, and, high up, the walls are delicately fes- 
tooned with the spider's lace-work ; the carved marble mantels, and 
perhaps some choice statuary, are growing dusky; dust has crept 
into the small corners around the stairways — its good hiding-places, 
so long undiscovered, have at length slowly accumulated, and will 
soon reach a growth past overlooking even by the most careless 
housekeeper or maid. But by that time, these spots will be so 
closely packed that whisk-broom and duster can never reach them, 
and it looks too formidable a task to attempt to dislodge them in a 
more thorough way. Therefore the dust conquers, and remains un- 
disputed possessor. 

And so one might pass all through the house and find just such 
surface-work every-where, defacing and permanently injuring a 
home that would have retained its freshness and beauty for many 
years, had it received such care as a really neat woman would have 
given the meanest hut, had she lived in the desert where there was 
no being but herself to notice or enjoy. 

But, as we remarked, the kitchen shows neglect much sooner 
and more unmistakably than any other apartments. Kitchen uten- 
sils, of necessity, have rougher usage than those belonging to other 
parts of the house. Many articles are subjected to great heat, 
often with some food that has much fat about it. Sometimes, even 
in the best regulated families, a portion of the food is scorched or 
burnt ; but never, with suitable care, will it be so badly burnt that 
the vessel must be permanently injured. But how are those uten- 
sils cleaned which are used for meat-cooking? In many families, 
very nicely. All the salty, or fatty sediments that naturally tend 
to adhere to the bottom of the pan, and by the heat necessary for 
cooking are browned if not scorched, when properly managed can 
be thoroughly cleaned off, not a particle left to harden and make 
the bottom rough. As soon as the food is removed from the pan, 
or kettle, hot water should be at once poured in, and the vessel left 
to soak until the time comes for cleaning it. Then a scrub-brush, 
or the briar-wood-brush kept for such ])urposes, and nothing else, 
will be faithfully used, with plenty of good hot soap-suds, until the 



138 SURFACE-WORK, 

bottom of the pan, pot or kettle is as clean and smooth as when 
first purchased — smoother, indeed, because iron-ware, properly cared 
for, grows smoother with use. After being thus cleaned it is rinsed 
in scalding water, wiped, and put on the back of the range or 
stove, r\ few moments, until every particle of moisture has disap- 
peared. 

Now, if the housekeeper insists on all iron or tin utensils being 
thus faithfully cleaned inside, and sees, week by week, that her 
instructions are carried out, she does well, and is worthy of com- 
mendation so far. But how about the outside of iron or tin cooking 
utensils? We have known many girls who are neat enough to see 
the necessity of following good and sensible directions for keeping 
the interior of all vessels very clean, who neglect the exterior, as if 
that was no manner of importance. They greatly mistake. It is 
important, not only as being called for, through one's own self-re- 
spect an(f desire to be cleanly, but also as a matter of economy. No 
kitchen articles demand closer attention than those of metallic com- 
position — iron, copper, brass or tin — and none so soon corrode and 
go to ruin if neglected. Every mistress of a house should habitu- 
ally visit her kitchen, and two or three times a week examine all the 
utensils used there, not simply opening a closet door and peeping 
in, as if some bugbear would spring upon her ; but carefully over- 
look all the contents, and then her kitchen furniture will last many 
years longer than that of the housekeeper who gives her orders with- 
out seeing that they are executed. We wish these kind of house- 
keepers would for once step into their kitchen and make a thorough 
examination with their own hands, as well as with their eyes. Let 
them take up that bake-pan, skillet, sauce-pan, etc., and see how 
the outside looks, even when the inside is smooth and clean. No 
wonder she turns with disgust from the bare idea of handling it, and 
exclaims : 

"Why! what makes the outside surface so rough and greasy — 
so covered with patches that look like some excrescence foreign to 
the material?" 

It is simply the effect of negligence and untidiness. If the out- 
side had always been as faithfully cleaned as the inside — if, when 
the article cooked in it chanced to boil over, and being in the oven 



SURFACE-WORK I39 

or over the fire, that which spilled out had burned on and become hard- 
ened, the same use of the brush, and, in some extreme cases, of soap 
and sand, had been applied to the outside that was thought impor- 
tant when cleaning inside, there would be none of these scaly blotches, 
and the whole kettle or pan, exteriorly as well as interiorly, could 
be handled without soiling the fingers. Some iron-ware does 
not come to us as smoothly finished exteriorly as it must be inte- 
riorly; but all this disagreeable, blotchy surface, that makes one 
creep to touch it, and all uncleanliness, is absolutely needless — 
nothing but downright indolence and slovenliness. Copper, brass, 
and tin can be kept bright and attractive, and iron can be kept 
smooth and free from grease, without any great addition of labor, 
and with half the time that would be spent in a spasmodic "clean- 
ing-up-daij." There is no excuse f©r the very reprehensible and 
disagreeable manner in which these articles are sometimes neglected 
and abused. 

We know ladies who have been keeping house more than twenty 
years, whose stoves, ranges and hardware utensils, except for lack 
of a new fashion, are worth as much to-day as when first bought. 
It is a well-known fact that iron-ware grows stronger and smoother 
with age, and, except the fire-brick in a stove, there is no reason 
why they should wear out. 

We know other ladies W'ho began housekeeping about the same 
time, who have not an article left of their first housekeeping out- 
fit. Every thing has been demolished, and every thing renewed 
several times over, from the first parlor and chamber furniture to 
the first dining-room and kitchen plenishing ; not an article left as 
a remembrance of wedded love's first home, or for a keepsake for 
the children and children's children. And yet we have do doubt 
that the first class have had more comfort, more solid enjoyment 
and ease than those who so neglect their duties. We are confident 
that the careful housekeeper has the easiest life, as well as the 
quietest conscience. 



140 I^^OT THBOVGH PEIBE. 



NOT THEOITGH PRIDE, BUT FROM INCREASED 
rSEFULXESS. 

"Women are credited with vanity sometimes, when, in reality, their 
act« are but legitimate eflorts to lighten needful labors, or to make 
the labor productive of less personal discomfort. If a lady is par- 
ticularly fastidious in her care of her hands, it is at once set down 
to vanity — a desire to have soft, white hands, that give no indica- 
tion of having ever been usefully employed. This may be, and 
doubtless often is, the chief reason for such extreme attention as 
sleeping in gloves, or with the hands poulticed to soften and whiten 
the skin ; but before making rash assertions, or imagining this to 
be a common custom, might it not be wise to inquire if there are 
not other reasons influencing a large proportion of those women who 
desire to keep the hands soft and supple? Many ladies tiiui it nec- 
essary to do a good share of the rough work themselves, and some- 
times do it all, sewing included. Some are often compelled to 
assist in, or do all the' washing for weeks together, especially in 
the country, where assistance is ditfieult to find, or worthless when 
found. 

Now, there are many things harder than washing, that ladies see 
the necessity of doing themselves. But the heat and alkali of the 
suds in washing, and the heat of the irons in ironing, make the 
hands hard, dry, swollen, and exceedinirly uncomfortable. 

Among the innumerable washuig-machiues that are brought before 
the public, no doubt some are able to lighten the labor, but none 
that Ave have heard of can so do this work tliat the hands are ex- 
empt from being a good deal in hot and cold water. After some 
experience they may becosie accustomed to the abrupt change from 
hot suds to cold water ; but great care is the only thing that am 
prevent them from becoming rough and uncomfortable, and in cold 
weather chapping or crackiuG: in a very painful -manner. 

If washing once a week has this eft'ect. dish-washing three times 
a day — or twenty-one times a week — will be still worse. 

Every woman knows, or ought to, that to make dishes look well 



NOT THROUGH PRIDE. 141 

hot suds are needed for greasy dishes — too hot to put the hands in 
without discomfort. Even if one attempts to wash dishes with a 
dish-mop, she is not likely to find them a convenience that saves 
time, or can be depended on for thorough work, and, after all, only 
partially protecting the hands. There are many dishes that can 
only be well cleaned by putting the hands boldly to the work. 
After one becomes quite accustomed to this, the hands are so well 
hardened that the immediate physical discomfort is little noticed ; 
but none the less will they grow rough and become quite unfit for 
delicate work. 

Now it is easily understood that a woman who finds she must 
do all, or part of her house work, much, if not all the time — aside 
from sewing and other delicate work — labors under other and more 
annoying difficulties than mere bodily fatigue. If her hands are 
constantly rough and stiff, she will find no pleasure, but much dis- 
comfort, in attempting to handle fine sewing. We have seen and 
heard of several varieties of dish-xvashing machines, but have yet to 
find one that, on trial or careful examination, we would be willing^ 
to use ourselves, or which can do our work satisfactorily. But we 
think a little forethought, without much ingenuity, can in most 
houses, with the modern improvements that are now so common, 
lighten, or in part abolish, much of this trouble. When hot and 
cold water can be drawn into the sink, supplied from reservoirs or 
hydrants, one feels at liberty to use it more freely than when 
obliged to pump it and bring by hand, and thereby can lessen the 
labor of dish-washing and the injury to the hands. 

When we have found it necessary to take charge of this work, 
we proceed in this order: After all food has been taken from the 
table, the plates and platters well scraped, and the debris removed, we 
gather the dishes into three parcels — glass, cups and saucers, bread- 
plates and dishes not soiled with greasy food ; and, of course, the 
glass is to be first cleaned, and put back in its appropriate place. To 
wash glass, the hands need not be brought in full contact with hot 
water. A bowl of clean hot water, and the least quantity of soap, 
to clean off marks of soiled fingers or mustaches, is needed, and 
another near with clear hot water, and an old japanned or tin 
waiter, with a towel spread on the bottom, to drain them on. Take 



142 NOT THROUGH PRIDE. 

each glass with thumb and fiugers, and whirl it round in the hot suds, 
then rinse in the clear hot water in the same easy way — without 
wetting the hand, and hardly moistening the fingers — and then 
turn bottom up to drain on the towel. Before wiping and polish- 
ing the glass, put the cups and saucers into a pan under the faucet, 
and turn on hot water — not like a torrent, to spatter over your 
apron or the floor, but a steady, easy stream. Then quickly wipe 
the glass on a dry towel, and polish on a clean chamois or buck- 
skin, and put away. Half the time it has taken to write this 
will see the work accomplished. 

Now to turn the pan of cups and saucers. All the sjagar and milk 
on them will have been washed off", and flowed over the pan into 
the sink, and by this time the articles will be ready to remove from 
under the faucet, and the pan of greasy dishes put in its place, 
with a bit of soap put on top. While the hydrant is washing these, 
turn to the pan of cups, saucers, etc. Here a small, clean dish- 
mop may be on hand and of use, if any spot or sediment remains. 
But usually we find these articles come from under this hot-water 
douche perfectly cleansed, and, turning them down to drain, they 
are very easy to wipe and polish, and much more rapidly than in 
any other way. 

When these are finished and put up, turn to the pan of greasy 
dishes, over which and the soap an easy stream of very hot water 
has been falling, and, filling the pan, running over, carrying all 
the grease and dirt into the drain. The hot water and soap has 
well cleansed these greasy dishes, without touching the hands to 
the water; but, that there may be no mistake, with a neat whisk- 
broom (kept for that purpose, and nothing else, instead of a dish- 
cloth) brush off each dish in the hot suds, tipping it up with the 
whisk, so that it can be taken out without putting the hands into 
the hot water, and transferred to the rinsing-pan, now under the 
faucet. After such a washing, wiping and polishing these dishes 
is quick work. When finished and put up, the iron-ware is lifted 
from the range, well scrubbed outside and in, with the appropriate 
briar-brush, the water which was put in tliem on the range poured 
ofi", and the articles put into a pan of hot suds, and again scrubbed 
with the briar-brush, rinsed in hot water, wiped very dry with the 



NOT THROUGH PRIDE. 143 

towel used for such things, and set on one side of the range to dry, 
while dish-pans and sink are scrubbed and cleaned in their turn 
with brush, soap and hot water. 

If this Hounds like a long process, the blame rests with us for a 
clumsy description. But let any one doubting, try it alone, and be 
convinced. (Making beds, clearing off tables and washing dishes 
are never quickly done where hoo work — and talk — together.) Fol- 
lowing these rules or suggestions, we know that the work can be 
done, and well done, in less than half the time consumed in the 
usual way, and one can be ready to receive calls, or to sit down to 
sewing, writing, or other work with hands as smooth, and fit for a 
change of work, as if they had never washed a dish. If one has 
none of these hot-water conveniences by which a stream of hot 
water can be brought to flow over the dishes, it is not so easy, but a 
little forethought and contrivance will, in part, make good the lack 
of conveniences. A large boiler and a tea-kettle filled with water, 
and put over the range, when the food goes on to the table, will be 
heated by the time one is ready for it, and will greatly expedite 
the work. Pouring the rinsing water from the tea kettle is more 
eflTective than dipping it from the boiler, and whisk-broom and 
briar-brush save the hands. 

Even if a lady has no hard, rough work to do, we would advise 
her to keep her hands as soft and as nice as she can. It is per- 
fectly proper for any woman to do this, whatever may be her occupa- 
tion or position, even if it be only for the pleasure of it. 

No one is blamed or called vain for keeping the hair smooth — 
if fashion will let her. It is a beautiful crown for a woman; and 
to keep the hands soft and delicate is no more blameworthy. But 
that is not the chief, nor the best reason for such care. Aside from 
the greater ease in attending to other work than that which belongs 
to the kitchen, it should be remembered that there are other duties 
that every lady, from the highest to the lowest, may be called upon 
to perform. How' much happier infants and young children can be 
made when washed, dressed and fed by soft, gentle hands! and 
thus the work becomes a pleasure to the giver as well as the recipi- 
ent. And nowhere is the comfort of this care seen to greater advan- 
tage than when ministering to the sick — to watch over and tend 



144 POOR HEALTH. 

tliose over whom death seems hovering. Only those who have gone 
through long weeks of great pain and weakness can imagine the 
great comfort, the quieting influence, that the gentle touch of some 
soft, delicate hand is capable of exercising — often more beneficial 
than the most skillful medical care, and even more benign in its 
ministrations than tender, loving words. 



POOR HEALTH. 



Many suflfer all their lives from causes that scientific research has 
"been only able to guess at, but as yet does not fully understand, 
and which no amount of intelligence seems competent to avoid or 
control. But there are very many more causes of suflTering that 
but for negligence, willful ignorance or culpable carelessness, would 
never have disturbed the system. 

In the early stages of infancy there are evils lying in wait which 
sensible and well-informed mothers, by a proper degree of care, have 
the power to avert; or, if these troubles chance to make slight in- 
roads, they can be eradicated entirely if promptly met at the be- 
ginning; while, if such disturbances are suffered to go unheeded, as 
if of slight consequence, they soon defy control. Passing from 
infancy, motheis may easily learn that many diseases and weak- 
nesses assail childhood which are quite harmless if met at once 
with watchful care, but if neglected they have power, to sadden the 
young life, and make mature years and old age intolerable. From 
the contagious diseases through which children are expected to pass, 
permanent evils — such as deafness, weak eyes, perhaps total blind- 
ness or serious bronchial ditficulties — are scarcely to be apprehended, 
if those who have the responsibility are quick to realize that each 
one of these assailants has latent powers, and waits only a good 
opening to take full possession, and hold this advantage unshaken 
by all efforts, however energetic, if made too late. 

IMany of the "ills that flesh is heir to" may also be traced to 
the recklessness of youth, just far snough advanced toward maturity 



MISTAKES AND PRECAUTIONS. 145 

to rebel at parental restraints. Needless exposure, unnecessary- 
over exertion, excess in amusements, unrestrained appetite or in- 
ordinate eating, must inevitably bring their own punishment. There 
is no end to the list of evils resulting in dwarfed powers which 
come entirely through ignorance, or willful disregard of natural 
laws. 

We do not design, nor do we feel competent, to go into a close 
description of those errors which may have such ruinous conse- 
quences, but simply to glance at some of those small derelictions 
usually considered too insignificant to beget any serious conse- 
quences — only implicating the neatness of the culprit — but which 
really often have disastrous results. Imperfect sewerage, incom- 
plete ventilation — as connected with the building of houses and 
arranging the grounds — with various other items, are continually 
brought into public notice, and held up as warnings. These warn- 
ings need no indorsement from us. There are, however, other acts 
of carelessness so small as to be unworthy of the slightest notice, 
and yet they are full of danger. 



MISTAKES AND PRECAUTIOISrS. 

Observe the signs of the times. With which class do the epii 
demies, that so often come upon a community like lightning from 
an unclouded sky, prove the m'ost deadly ? The strong, who have 
never known sickness, or the weak and ever-suffering, who have 
never known health? Those who have had very few days' free- 
dom from discomfort and illness, and are conscious of little strength 
to contend with any violent sickness, foreseeing the evil, hide them- 
selves under the protection of judicious, sensible sanitary regula- 
tions until the storm has passed, and they are saved. But the 
strong, who, through ignorance of suflfering, mock at danger, pass 
on, heedless of advice and precautions, are more frequently 
swept out of life with scarce a moment's warning. How often it 
is remarked, " Strange, one so invariably robust and healthy should 

10 



146 MISTAKES AND PRECAUTIONS. 

have so easily fallen a victim ; while another near by, so frail that 
one expects the first breath of contagion to be fatal, is left un- 
scathed !" 

The simple rules or suggestions listened to by many as idle 
breath, are, however small, nevertheless the "life-boats" in that 
voyage that all must make before they reach the shores of "the 
hereafter." The "breakers," whose warning voice may be heard 
from afar, and should be at once guarded against, seem to the 
strong and incautious but as the gentle ripples that gather and 
break harmlessly on the shore. But however insignificant they 
may be thought, they have a power that often brings much mis- 
chief. 

Irregularity in eating is an evil that works gradually, but surely, 
much discomfort and misery; often undermining the health and 
darkening the remainder of a life that might, with a little 
caution, have been unclouded by any physical disturbance. The 
number of times one eats is of less importance than the quantity 
and regularity. 

A large amount of bodily or mental labor before breakfast is not 
conducive to health, nor should one, if it can possibly be avoided, 
enter upon the day's regular occupation vigorously for at least an 
hour after eating. It would be of incalculable value to health if 
each meal could be taken in a light, airy room, with pleasant, 
cheerful companions, who would so agreeably help to pass the time, 
that the temptation to eat rapidly and without thoroughly masti- 
cating the food, would be overcome -by the cheerful surroundings. 
A short time of such enjoj-ment and repose will enable one to work 
more effectively at the proper time, and secure a much larger 
amount of work afterward than an hour's rest without such pleas- 
ant influences could do. 

Early breakfasts for young and growing people are almost a 
necessity, if one hopes to bring them up to maturity healthy and 
vigorous. The maxim, "Early to bed and early to rise," has 
much more wisdom in it than is generally conceded. 

If tlae occupation is such that a hali-hour's labor before break- 
:fest is .really a necessity, then take a piece of bread or cracker. It 
is not wise to go out into the early morning air before eating a few 



MISTAKES AND PRECAUTIONS. 147 

mouthfuls. Especially ought lliis preciiution to be strictly observed 
in malarial sections, and in seasons when much sickness is over the 
country. Nothing can be more unwise than to go into a >^i('k-room 
fasting; and when the sickness is contagious tlie result is often dan- 
gerous, if not fatal. 

Wliile early rising and early breakfasts are conducive to good 
health and vigor, late suppers are, on the contrary, very injurious, 
and the sure road to dyspepsia and settled ill-health. 

Do not attempt to economize by decreasing the washing-bills or 
family washing. To keep the person scrupulously clean, frequent 
change of undergarments is as necessary as bathing. 

If j)eople will sleep in some portion of the underclothing that 
has been worn through the day, and perhaps alter a morning's 
bath resume that same garment, it may be accounted an untidy 
habit ; but how few will see that it can have any eli'ect on the 
health? But reflect a moment. Whether drenched with perspira- 
tion from hard work or warm weather, or only saturated with the 
natural exhalations that rise from the body at all seasons, no one 
doubts that it would be more cleanly to remove all articles of cloth- 
ing worn through the day, and hang them up to l)e thoroughly 
aired, while other well-ventilated garments are })ut on at niglit; but 
who advocates that course on hygienic principles? Most partially 
understand that if there are any obstruc^tions by which these vapors, 
or exhalations, cease to be thrown olF fri)m the body, injury to the 
health will follow; is it not, therefore, sensible to suppose that if 
the garments which receive and absorb them are kept on the body, 
these vapors will be again al)sorbed with pcjisonous results? 

But if one is accustomed to complete change in the day and 
night garments, and neatly folds those used at night, and lays 
them in the wardrobe, closing doors and windows to exclude dust 
and flies ; or, as is often done, put the night attire under the pil- 
low of the owner, what has been done to prevent injury to the 
health? Nothing. Is it any great trouble, on retiring, to hang the 
garments, as they are put off, one by ono, where they will be thor- 
oughly dried and aired? It will not take five minutes' extra time. 
Leave the party, the ball, or social converse by the fireside five 
minutes earlier, if too tired to attend to this duty properly. And 



148 MISTAKES AND PRECA UTIONS. 

in the morning don't be late to breakfast — that's bad ; but evert 
that departure from good-breeding is less reprehensible than to- 
throw the night-clothes in a heap, leave the bed unaired, and the 
windows unopened. Rise five minutes earlier, if need be; hang up 
the night-clothes where they will have the full benefit of the pure, 
fresh morning air; raise the windows; throw off the bedclothes, 
hanging them loosely over chairs ; put the pillows in full range of 
the windows, and pull ihe mattress over the foot-board — then go ta 
breakfast with a clear conscience. 

Do not be in too great haste to have the bed made. Leave it,, 
and your night-clothes, long enough for the sun to dry off the morn- 
ing dew that may have dampened them'. Hang the night-garments 
up in the closet; but never fold them to be put under the pillows. 
By strict observance of this method, one may be sure of sweet,, 
healthful changes, for morning and night, and exemption from 
more suffering and disease than people are willing to believe can 
spring from such, seemingly, slight neglects. 

There is much said of watchfulness and constant care respecting- 
free circulation and cleanliness in cellars, particularly in milk and 
vegetable cellars. Too much can not be said on those points. But 
how far do housekeepers learn, through the evidence of their own 
senses, that such advice and minute directions are carried out? Go 
to the milk-cellar. Well, the pans look bright and clean, and 
smell sweet; so do the churn, the butter-bowl and other butter- 
utensils. Ah! the odor comes from this corner, and yet every 
article seems clean. But you have only looked into the pans,, 
bowls, etc. You have moved nothing. Lift up some of the things 
near the spot where the odor is offensive. Aha! what have we 
here? Surely, Joan has left her old scrub-cloth up in this corner 
since wiping up the cellar floor. This is only one item. Others 
will be found on examination. 

Do you now understand why the milk and butter have tasted 
badly this week? Nothing is so easily injured as milk, unless it is- 
the health; and if these odors are allowed to exist day after day, 
with no real, thorough, active effort to trace and banish the evil,, 
how long will it be before the health will begin to suffer from the- 
same causes? 



RINGS. 149 

If the milk-cellar gives the first warning, and the mischief is 
cast out there, how more than probable that a much more injuri- 
ous state of things will be found in the vegetable cellar ! — ana poison 
from that source will bring much more serious results. We do not 
think it safe to store vegetal)les or green wood in the cellars of 
dwelling-houses. The exhalations from a large mass of fruit or 
vegetables packed into a cellar are poisonous, even before decay- 
commences, aud also the vapors, or gas from green wood; and 
separate buildings ought to be provided for them. Every year we 
hear of one death after another in homes that seem the perfection 
of comfort and elegance; but when the blow has been repeated 
again and again, some one rouses up and sees the necessity of in- 
vestigation. The sewerage is found defective, or vegetables or un- 
seasoned wood have been stored directly under the home rooms. 
The poison from these causes naturally rises, and those who, day 
after day, think themselves blessed in the enjoyment of such a 
lovely home, are breathing disease and death with every hour's en- 
joyment. One and another remembers, when too late, that at times 
some disagreeable odor was perceptible in the air of the rooms, 
but no danger was thought of. 

We do not propose to enter into any minute detail of all the 
causes by which health is injured and life shortened through care- 
lessness; but hope a few hints will start householders, and house- 
keepers especially, on a tour of investigation in their own homes. 



RINGS. 

Some general information about rings — their origin, use or syra- 
bolization — together with the superstitions connected with them, 
may interest and instruct our readers. Almost all the precious 
stones used in rings had their own peculiar significance in olden 
times. In the earliest mention of rings which we can find, they 
were used as symbols of authority. If the emperor, or any one of 
high position, took off his signet ring, and handed it to an official. 



150 . BINGS. 

the act, for the time being, invested this subordinate with his 
master's authority. 

The first mention of rings in the Bible is in Genesis xli and xlii, 
when Pharaoh advanced Joseph to be, next to himself, chief in 
Egypt: "And he took off his ring from his hand and put it on 
Joseph's hand, and made him ruler over all Egypt." When the 
Israelites conquered the Midianites, they took all the rings and 
bracelets found among them, and offered them to the Lord. 
Ahasuerus took his ring from his hand and gave it to the Jews' 
most vindictive enemy, Haman, and, by that sign, gave him unlim- 
ited control over the people and their property, " to' do with them 
as seemeth good unto him." But, becoming convinced of Haman's 
evil purposes, he reclaimed the ring, and gave it to Mordecai, by 
that act enabling him to save his people. The father joyfully re- 
ceiving back his prodigal son clothed him in fine raiment, and 
sealed his forgiveness by putting a ring on his hand. 

Signet rings were also used for sealing important documents. 
The Egyptians used them both as a business voucher, and for or- 
nament. Rings, whether for seals or for adornment, were, with 
them, usually buried with the dead, and very many have been 
found in their tombs. Bronze or silver were chiefly used for the 
signet ring, and gold for ornament. Among the poorer class rings 
of ivory or blue porcelain were chiefly used. Plain bands of gold 
were much used, and almost invariably engraved with some motto, 
device, or the representation of their deities. Among the rich, 
rings were worn not only three or four on the finger, but on the 
thumbs. No one was considered in full dress among the Jews 
without the signet ring ; and the ladies, instead of the plain gold 
band, had their rings highly adorned with costly gems — rubies, 
emeralds and chrysolites being the most highly valued. The He- 
brews and people of Asia evidently wore rings some time before 
they were knoAvn in Greece ; but, having once been introduced there, 
their use spread rapidly. In the days of Solon every freed man 
wore a signet ring of gold, silver or bronze. Wearing jewelry at 
length became so extravagant that the lawgivers attempted to cur- 
tail its use, but for a long time with little apparent success. The 



RINGS. 151 

Spartans for years sternly refused to indulge in such lavish adorn- 
ment, wearing only iron signet rings. 

As luxuries began to increase the iron ring was quite discarded, 
and the Romans, Greeks and Egyptians carried their love for or- 
naments and jewelry to the most absurd extent, often covering each 
finger and the thumbs up to the middle joint of both hands, and 
increasing the value by addition of jirecious stones to an astonish- 
ing extent. Some of the royal ladies, and the most conspicuous 
of the nobility, are said to have worn rings costing what in our 
money would be equal to $200,000 and $300,000. 

The Jews wore the signet ring on the right hand and on the 
middle or little finger. The early Christians, who followed the cus- 
tom of wearing rings, adopted also the Egyptian mode of jDutting 
the most significant ring on the second finger of the left hand, en- 
graving on them something emblematical of their faith and wor- 
ship — a palm-leaf, a dove, an anchor, a cross, or pictures of the 
Saviour or his Apostles; but rings were not known among the 
Christians till 800. All the bishops wore a ring indicating their 
peculiar office. When a pope is consecrated a seal ring of steel is 
put upon his hand, and afterward committed to the charge of some 
of his cardinals. At the death of a pope this ring is l^roken, and 
a new one made for his successor. Some precious stone is always 
set in the episcopal ring — a crystal, ruby, sapphire or amethyst. A 
cardinal's ring is usually ornamented with a sapphire, and we be- 
lieve an amethyst is the symbol of a Jewish rabbi of the highest 
standing, and worn with his robes of royal purple velvet. 

For many years one important part of ecclesiastical symbols, or 
insignia, has been a ring of some peculiar form. It was a mark or 
token of dignity or authority, and was supposed to symbolize the 
mysterious union of the priest and church. One ring, and the 
most important one set apart for the pope, was kept for the signa- 
ture of important church papers. The usual forms of pontifical 
rings have some massive book or crossed keys engraved on thenu 

As wedding gifts, or pledges of betrothal, rings were used at a 
very early period. Among the Romans an iron ring was the token 
of betrothal, as significant of the enduring character of the love and 
engagement. The custom of using a plain gold ring as the most 



152 RINGS. 

appropriate for a wedding ring, came to us from the Saxons. The 
engagement ring may be as expensive and rich in precious stones 
as the bank account of the lover will warrant ; but the plain gold, 
as rich and massive as you please, is the true wedding ring. The 
use of this especial ring sprung from the old Koman custom of 
using a ring to bind agreements. The wife wears the engagement 
ring after marriage in Germany, or did so formerly, and the husband 
the wedding ring. The jemmel, or gimbal, are the twin, double 
rings, ornamented and engraved with tender or pious sentiment, 
often given on an engagement. Some of the mottoes, or " posies," 
engraved on such rings are very quaint and curious, and by some 
"were regarded as magical: 

"First, love Christ, who died for thee; 
Next to him, love none but me." 

"Let lyking last." "A faithful wife preserveth life." "As God 
decreed, so we agreed." "I'll win and wear thee." 

Large and highly ornamented betrothal and wedding rings are 
much used by the Jews. On the top of the ring is often a small 
temple or tower, which can be opened by a spring, and containing 
inside the ark of the covenant. They are not to be the property 
of the newly-married pair, but are kept in the synagogue, and at 
a particular part of the service are placed on the fingers of the 
couple by the priest. 

Queen Elizabeth, it will be recollected, gave a ring to the Earl 
of Essex in token of esteem, promising, if he ever offended her, no 
matter how grossly, this ring, sent to her by him, would insure his 
forgiveness ; but, when arrested for treason and sentenced to death, 
he sent the ring to the queen by a false friend, who withheld it, 
and Essex was executed. So runs the tale; whether it has any 
foundation or not, many romantic stories have sprung out of that 
incident. 

The French originated the "regard" rings, in which several 
different kinds of precious stones are combined, so as to either spell 
the name or spell "Regard; " two rubies, one emerald, one garnet, 
one amethyst and one diamond being necessary for the word. 

Very many superstitions have been connected with rings, and 



RINGS. 153 

some still linger about them. The Egyptians placed the wedding 
ring on the fourth finger of the left baud, because they supposed 
that an artery or nerve extended from that finger to the heart. 
The wedding ring was thought to possess the power to heal diseases, 
and many still rub a gold ring on the eyelid to drive oflf a sty, or 
any inflammation from it. It was long believed that if one pro- 
cured some of the silver given as alms at the communion-table, 
made it into a ring, and put it on the finger of a child threatened 
with, or liable to, convulsions, it would ward off the danger. 

In olden times many rings were made with a concealed cavity in 
which some quick, active poison was placed, and by it the owner 
escaped tortures, or death by public execution. The ring of that 
great tyrant, Caesar Borgia, which he kept secret, or, rather, con- 
stantly in his own care — contained a poison which, it was rumored, 
he skillfully dropped into the wine of any guest wliom he desired 
to put out of his way secretly. His father's (Alexander VI.) 
special favorite was a key ring, in which was a poisoned needle 
that pierced the hand of any one attempting to unlock a certain 
casket. This ring was handed to any of his officials whose death 
was desirable, ostensibly to bring the tyrant some article from the 
cabinet. Of course, obedience to the command insured the victim's 
death. 

On the signet ring of Mary Queen of Scots was the motto, " In 
defens," and her monogram, M. R., but on the under side was a 
crowned monogram making the initials M. and A., for Mary and 
Albany, the title of Lord Darnley, or Duke of Albany. Darnley's 
ring is still preserved in Kensington Museum, with his own and 
Queen Mary's united in a lover's knot, M. and H. Inside the 
knot is Henry L. Darnley, and the year of their marriage, 1565. 

The Prince of Wales gave the Princess Alexandra a "keeper" 
ring on their marriage, set with beryl, em.erald, ruby, turquoise, 
jacinth, and emerald again. This spells his youthful family name, 
Bertie. 

The curative power, the signs, miracles, and all the long list of 
superstitions that have centered around rings, really rest, in almost 
every instance, in the jewel set in the ring, and not in the circlet 
itself. Sentiment, and not magic, is attached to the band of gold. 



154 SUPERSTITIONS CONNECTED WITH PEECIOUS STONES. 

All those fancies are slowly dying away, tliougli some of them are 
so beautiful that one rather delights in lingering over them, half 
believing, half — or more than half — skeptical. But to a trusting, 
loving spirit, although the betrothal or wedding rings carry with 
them no superstition, fond and sacred memories must be centered 
in them that are of more value than all that magic could give. 
The hour that bi'ought full assurance of love returned will daily be 
recalled by the sight of the golden pledge given and taken. And 
even more precious than any gem that may flash from that betrothal 
ring, is the solid plain gold band that is the token of vows taken 
that death alone should sunder. 



SUPERSTITIONS CONNECTED WITH PRECIOUS 

STONES. 

We have given some of the supposed virtues and legends that 
for a long time clustered around rings, and have tried to show that 
all of magic or mystery rested in the jewels that are set in the 
ring, rather than in the golden circlet itself. We now attempt to 
give some account of those superstitions. 

The amethyst was, in some nations, given as a voucher for con- 
tinued love and confidence, and while worn it was supposed that 
no power was able to shake the trust thus sealed; but if lost or de- 
faced, all the sorrows and evils that are incident to broken faith 
and estranged affections might be hourly looked for. 

The Persians made drinking-cups of amethyst, under the impres- 
sion that no beverage drank from those cups could intoxicate. 
After a time, amethyst in any shape, whether as a cup, necklace, 
bracelet or ring, was considered a sure protection from intemper- 
ance. Many of the Jewish rabbis and mediisval writers asserted 
that, when worn, the amethyst subjected its wearer to wild and be- 
wildering dreams ; and yet this was one of the twelve stones which 
adorned the high prie.ot's breastplate. The amethyst, with its royal 
purple or new wine color, was, from the dawn of Christianity, 



SUPERSTITIONS CONNECTED WITH PRECIOUS STONES. 155 

famed as the emblem of the blood of Christ; and from that super- 
stition it became the fixed law of the Roman Catholic Church, that 
no bishop should perform official duties unless wearing an amethyst 
ring. 

The amethyst was also supposed to drive away bad dreams, 
sharpen the intellect, and act as an antidote against poison. It is, 
according to the language of gems, the "natal gem" of all bom 
in the month of November, and in ancient times was worn as an 
amulet to propitiate good, and repel bad spirits. 

The turquoise was believed by the people of the East to pre- 
serve all who wore it from contagion; and even now, not in the 
East alone, but in Christianized countries, it is still worn with full 
belief in the superstition. It was considered of priceless value, 
and many strange and contradictory stories were told of it. An 
ancient writer says : 

"One of my relatives possessed a ring in which a very fine tur- 
quoise was set, and wore it as a superior ornament. While he re- 
mained in perfect health, this stone was noted for its remarkable 
beauty and clearness. At last the owuer was seized with a malady 
of which he died. Scarcely was he dead when the turquoise lost 
its luster, and appeared faded and withered in appearance, as if 
mourning for its master. 

"I had originally designed to purchase it, and could have done 
so for a very trifling sum. But this loss of beauty and luster in 
the precious stone took from me all desire to possess it, and so the 
turquoise passed into other hands. But as .soon as it obtained a 
new master, it regained all of its original brilliancy, and all defects 
vanished." 

Ths turquoise was thought, both by the Romans and Greeks, to 
bring good health and kind fortune to the wearer. The Shah of 
Persia never allowed any of the best and most brilliant of these 
stones to be taken from his kingdom. 

The carneliau, worn in a ring on the finger, was thought by the 
Arabs and Hebrews to shield its owner from the plague, and is 
still used by many of the Hebrews to stop profuse hemorrhage. 

The topaz was believed to discover poison, by becoming instantly 
dimmed or blurred when brought near to any poisonous substances ; 



156 surKESTrnoNS connectep m-itu vrecioi^ stones. 

that it would s^uIhUio tho hont of boiliui;- wntor. oalm the passions, 
pi"evont had divams; but that its powers wore governed by the 
moon, inoroasing- or dooroasing with that hiiuiuary. 

The old logonds, pariionlarly those of the I'asr. assure ns that 
an immense carbuncle was suspended in the ark. to give light to 
Noah and his family. It was called " the tlashing stone," and, by 
some, "the tkunder stone," and that it, and the diamond, drop 
froui the eloiuls in the tlashes of Ughtning during a thunder-storm. 

In ancient times, the ruby and carbuncle were the names indis- 
oriuiiuately used for all red stones. The Brahmins still believe that 
the dwelling--place of the gods is illuminated by rubies, carbuncles 
and emeralds. The ruby and carbuncle were believed to be amu- 
lets agiiinst plague, poison, sadness, evil thoughts and wicked 
spirits. 

Among the Hebivws the sapphire was a transparent stone, as 
blue as the vavdt of heaven ; but among the Romans it was sup- 
}K>se<l to be mixed with gold. It was asserted in ancient times, 
among the Hebi-ews, that the Ten Commandments were engraved 
on tablets of sappliire. To it wei-e ascribed the magical power of 
pivserving the sight, and sti"engtheniiig both soul and body; of 
warding otf wicked and impure thoughts; that it was a sure anti- 
dote agtiinst jxnson; and if put into a vessel with any poisonous 
creature, would kill it. St. Jerome Sixys, "The sapphire pivcures 
favor with princes, pacities enemies, overcomes enchantment, and 
releases its owner from captivity." On account of its purity it was 
worn by the high-priest. 

The onyx was said to cause strife and melancholy, and to cure 
epileptic tits. 

The jasper, if hung about the neck, was sn]^posed to be a cure 
H^r iudig-estion — ti wonderful stivngthener of the stomach. 

The bloodstone, or heliotrope, is credited with the same curative 
power as the jasper. There is a legend that, during the crucitixion, 
the bhxHl that tlowed from the wound caused by the spear, fell 
upv)n a dark given jasper lying at the fwt of the cross, and trans- 
formed it into a bUxxlstone. 

The opiil, one of the mi>st beautiful of all the precious stones, has 
had any amount of superstition attached to it. By some, the ill 



SUPERSTITIONS CONNECTED WITH PRECIOUS STONES. 157 

luck sittrihiitcil to its use is said to have arisen from Sir Walter 
Scott's mention of it in *'Anne of Oeierstein." He ascribed io it 
8U[)ornatural agency; and, long after that novel was published, the 
belief in its evil influence was so strong that no one was willing to 
wear an opal. That may have been the lirst conception of evil 
from wearing opals ; but we think it sprang from Eastern supersti- 
tion, or, at least, that there were many and various legends con- 
nected with it. Some believed that it often changed from a brilliant 
luster to a smoky, dull color, and that any such change fcjre- 
shadowed misfortune and trouble, but did not bring it. We knew 
of an instance where a lady brought an elegant opal nticklace to a 
jeweler's, desiring to sell it. They attempted to dissuade her from 
such folly, saying that the setting being old-fashioned, they could 
give her very little for what was really valual>le. To this she re- 
plied that the necklace was given her as a bridal gift forty years 
before, and she had never had an hour's luck since they came into 
her possession, and she would never carry them home with her. 
No matter how little they were willing to give her, she would leave 
them. She did so; but we have never heard if, by disposing of her 
opals for a mere trifle, she escaped subsequent misfortune. 

In Eastern nations the op il has always been highly prized; and 
with all the superstition associated with it, "ill luck," or evil influ- 
ence has never been attributed to it. 

"Gray years ago a man lived in the East 
Who did possess a ring, of worth immense, 
From a beloved hand. Opal the stone, 
Which flashed a hundred bright and beauteous hues, 
And had the secret power to make beloved, 
Of God and man, the one 
Who wore it in this faith and confidence." 

The pearl, in China, is supposed to have many medicinal proper- 
ties. The moonstone is known by the name of "Ceylon opal," and 
in earlier days much value was set upon it. Amber was, and still 
is, used to protect from witchery and sorcery ; and many of the 
present time believe it has singular properties for curing all 
catarrhal troubles. The Greeks believed that Phaeton's sisters, 
lamenting his loss after his death, turned into poplar trees, and 



158 "PROVE ALL THINGS." 

their tears, which flowed continually into the river where they stood, 
were congealed into amber. 

The Greeks thought coral was formed from the blood which 
dropped from the head of Medusa, which Perseus hung on the 
branches of a tree near by the sea-shore. These drops becoming 
hard, were planted by the sea-nymphs in the sea, where they grew 
up in branches, which, slowly uniting, became the coral reefs. 

In the early ages, coral was used medicinally as an astringent, 
and given also to new-born infants; and many valued it for its 
power to vanquish the devil and overcome his snares, if worn as an 
amulet. 

There has also been much of superstition connected with the way 
in which certain rings should be worn, and good or evil fortune 
prophesied as one conformed or refnsed compliance to the "sign." 
Each finger had some sign attached to it which was .used as a rea- 
son for caution. But as each finger has its individual functions, 
there is nothing but what can be explained in the simplest and 
most common-sense manner, without resorting to magic, witchcraft 
or signs and wonders. The third finger is now usually the ring- 
finger — that is, the wedding-ring finger. The ancients supposed 
that a nerve in that finger was intimately connected with the heart, 
and it was, therefore, set apart for this special honor. On the 
contrary, it has loss independent arteries than either of the others. 
It can not be bent or straightened very much without some motion 
or action of the fingers on either side ; and, as if in compensation 
for this deficiency, is chosen as the ring-finger. 



"PROVE ALL THINGS— HOLD FAST TO TEL\T 
^VIIIOH IS GOOD." 

There is no portion of household labor, even when one is blessed 
with the best of servants, that is not better performed when assisted 
by kindly supervision, repeated directions and explanations. "Line 



" PROVE ALL THINGS." 159 

upon line, precept upon precept," will do no harm in all the va- 
ried duties and 2:)erp]exities of domestic economy. But in examin- 
ing the many written rules and directions which are published year 
by year, one finds such a variety, and often such contradictory 
directions, that it is not strange that young housekeepers often 
" find that darker which was dark enough before," and become 
quite bewildered and discouraged. Every book they open on the 
subject may give an entirely different idea, and they are at a loss 
how to choose the most judicious, or to glean from the mass those 
which, on trial, will prove the most trustworthy. This uncertainty 
is a severe tax on those greatly-to-be-pitied young damsels who are 
allowed to step at once — untaught and untrained — from the school- 
room into the position of the mistress of a household. It is a very 
hard thing for any young lady to be left entirely ignorant and free 
of all home duties through mistaken kindness, or a selfish desire to 
avoid the personal trouble of instructing the daughter during the 
years she must be securing her book education. 

But there are two sides to every story, and from out of seeming 
evil almost always comes some good or compensation, if this evil is 
the result of others' mistakes or selfish neglect, and not one's own 
waywardness or negligence. A weak, frivolous nature may not try- 
to remedy her mother's lack of instruction, when she takes upon 
herself the responsibility of married life ; but a strong, self-reliant, in- 
dependent and noble character will not allow herself to be so cheated, 
or sink, without a struggle, into an ineflScient wife and housekeeper, 
on the plea that her mother did not lead her firmly into a thorough 
knowledge of domestic responsibilities. Such natures, undismayed 
by repeated failures, are quite capable, by study, experiments and 
careful attention to the most minute particulars, of making the most 
thorough and energetic housekeepers. This, to be sure, may be a more 
diflicult way to secure that dignity, than if they had been led by a 
mother's hand through all their early childhood ; but it is often the 
most perfect and enjoyable, because earned through great difficul- 
ties, unflagging study and unwearied eflTorts. But because there 
are, now and then, a few such examples, they can not be accepted 
as an excuse for unfaithful maternal guardianship; although none 
can deny that it is a great honor to those daughters who can 



160 " PROVE ALL THINGS." 

thus courageously and successfully overcome mistakes and diffi- 
culties. 

We have been led into this train of thought by noticing the 
many contradictory rules that are found in different receipt-books, 
papers and magazines, which maternal teachings should explain and 
make harmless. No wonder, if this is not carefully attended to, that 
the inexperienced, bewildered and discouraged, exclaim, "When 
doctors disagree, who shall decide ? " It is in just such doubtful 
cases that a vigorous, independent, self-reliant character often gains 
the victory by repeated experiments, trying first one rule and then 
another, until sound judgment and good common sense decide how 
much should be discarded as worthless. What can be relied on? 
If our advice conflicts with that of others, we beg our friends to 
•prove each, and hold fast to that which is best, no matter from 
what source derived. 

In what part of house-work can one find so many diverse direc- 
tions as in washing? In this particular, as in all other parts of 
household labor, there is but one sure way. Examine each, and 
then let good common sense act as judge. 

In washing woolens, flannels, blankets, etc., there are any num- 
ber of contradictory directions — almost as many as there are books 
on domestic economy. One advises to wash them in hot suds, 
rinsing in cold water. Another prohibits cold water altogether, 
washing in very hot suds and using no soap in the hot rinsing 
water, as enough will settle in the articles from the first suds. 
Others object to any hot water at all, but recommend cold suds 
both for washing and rinsing, and tell marvelous stories of fine 
white flannel covered up in snow-banks and found in the spring, 
after the snow disappears, as soft and white as new. Others prohibit 
wringing either with the wringer or by hand, insisting that blankets 
and flannels should be hung up for a few minutes to drain a little 
and then snapped hard by two persons, hung again on the line, and 
the snapping repeated as often as the water settles at the bottom 
and begins to drip, and again hung up — each time by a different 
side or end — and stretched into shape. But we think hot suds 
and hot rinsing-water only should be used with woolen goods ; no 
rubbing, but squeezing through the hands ; and no wringer, but 



" PROVE ALL THJNOS." 161 

willing hands to give faithful snapping and frequent change of posi- 
tion on the line, pulling well into shape each time. Still, other 
modes may be better than this. 

There are points, however, where very many well-informed per- 
sons agree, namely: Hard water should never be used in the laun- 
dry, if in any possible way it can be avoided. No woolen articles 
should be passed through the wringer. Soap of the best quality 
only to be used, and with woolen articles no soap to be rubbed 
on, only washing in a hot, strong suds. Above all, never to change 
flannels from a tub of hot suds to cold, or cool water. Increase the 
heat by adding fresh hot suds as it cools, but never decrease it. If 
the latter is done, it will surely full woolen goods and make them 
hard. All other directions will surely fail if this is not carefully 
observed. No garment can look nice if washed in hard water, and 
woolen goods are more injured by it than any other article. If the 
water is hard, soap put into it Avill tell the story. If there is sul- 
phate of lime in the water, the moment soap is added it will rise in 
curdles on top, instead of forming a lather, or suds, thus forming 
another kind of substance, or soap, by its union with the lime ; and 
that substance will never dissolve, but settles all through the clothes, 
giving, in spite of the last rinsing, a streaked, muddy look to every 
thing white. Therefore, when one sees a greasy scum rising on the 
water where soap has been used to wash the body of clothes, nothing 
else is needed to show that the water is hard. 

Next to distilled water, rain-water is the softest, and should,, 
as far as possible, be used for laundry purposes. It is on this 
account particularly, that a house with a large tank for receiving 
rain-water is of the greatest importance. But care should be 
observed in selecting materials for the roof over which the rain falls 
and runs into this tank. Lead, copper or zinc on the roof will 
injure the water, making it hard— aside from being poisonous. 
Rain-water has a solvent power on these substances. When there 
is mortar used on or about the roof, the water will be somewhat 
injured by the lime ; but usually there is not a sufficient quantity 
to do much injury, except while tlie roof is new. There is a suffi- 
cient reason for having slate for the roof, in the fact that water will 
not be affected by that substance. Spring-water would be as good 



162 HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 

as rain-water, if one could be sure through what quality of soil it 
passes before it forms the spring. If through a limestone region, it 
will, of course, be hard water, and also if through a soil impreg- 
nated with salt to any degree. We are speaking simply on the 
ground of household convenience. If looked at from a sanitary 
standpoint, it is still more important that soft water should be used 
for all purposes, as far as possible. Animals may teach us good 
lessons here. Horses, cattle, sheep and some birds will not use 
hard water if they can by any means find that which is soft. 

In cooking almost all kinds of meat, soft water should be used 
when possible; but with vegetables hard water is often best, and 
for that reason salt is thrown into the water to make it hard when 
cooking. Some vegetables are spoiled by cooking in soft water, 
because it will dissolve or make them so tender that all the flavor 
passes into the water, leaving the vegetable insipid and worthless, 
destroying all the firmness of texture necessary to retain the flavor 
and juices. Salt is also added to retain the color, else that would 
be lost in the water, and the vegetable become yellow. Soft water 
is best for making soups, broths or any thing from which one desires 
to extract the juice regardless of the substance, and hard water 
when it is necessary to hold the juices in the meat ; and as the softest 
water may be made hard by the addition of salt, housekeepers will 
do wisely if they provide themselves constantly with soft water, 
as far as possible. 



HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 

Much has been said relating to the best ways of general washing ; 
but with almost all that belongs to household labor a word every 
now and then will not come amiss, particularly as some new theory 
is advanced every few months, and often found to be a great im- 
provement upon many of the older ones. Besides, there is still so 
much left unsaid which is of importance, either as saving time, 
istrength or fuel, or being less injurious to the clothes. For ins- 
stance : 



HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 163 

In summer, if one has a nice grass yard where the clothes can 
be exposed to pure air and clear sunshine, all white clothes but 
the very dirty can be washed and bleached without the trouble 
of boiling. This saves time, fuel (and in the city always, and in 
the country sometimes, fuel is a large item of expense) and also 
eome extra wringing. Wash the articles carefully in good, clean 
puds, and spread them at once out of the suds, without wringing, 
on the green grass to bleacli. Leave them an hour or so — until 
the colored clothes, woolen and coarse articles, are washed, rinsed 
and hung out; then take them up from the grass, pass them 
through a tub of clean, hot, but not very strong suds, and then 
through a large quantity of Avell-blued rinsing-water, and hang up 
to dry. This gives all white clothes a nice color. If there is no 
grass-plat, this mode of bleaching can not be carried out. 

In washing merino, lamb's-wool and silk underclothes, or silk 
handkerchiefs, none but the best and purest soap should be used. 
The soap should be well dissolved in hot water into which the 
articles to be washed are put; but only two or three at a time, 
keeping fresh suds hot over the fire, to be added when more clothes 
are put into the tub. Do not rub them, but cleanse them by draw- 
ing them through the hands — up and down — in the suds. Rub- 
bing shrinks woolen, and injures the fabric of both woolen and silk. 
When they have been thus drawn through the hands till clean, 
wring as dry as possible, with the hands, to remove all the soap; 
then rinse in a tub of hot water, which should be ready to put the 
pieces in immediately on being wrung from the suds. It shrinks 
and yellows woolens badly, if left out of the water any time after 
being wrung, either from suds or rinsing-water. As they are wrung 
out, shake each piece free, and put at once into the rinsing-water. 
As fast as it can be done the pieces should be rinsed, wrung out, 
stretched into their proper shape, and hung smoothly on the line 
"where the wind and sun can have full play over them. 

Never wash woolens or silks on a stormy or cloudy day, but put 
them by till the sun shines. And never put either through the 
wringer. It makes woolen thick and harsh, and creases silk past 
restoring. We know of no washing compound that we would trust, 
to use in washing such goods. 



164 HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 

Many good housekeepers complain that their clothes turn yellow 
in washing, and they can not understand why this should be. We 
think they will soon find a remedy if they will take the trouble, so 
far to oversee the washing, as to be sure that the clothes are put 
on to boil in cold water, instead of hot or even boiling water, as 
servants are overfond of doing. The clothes, cotton or linen, after 
wringing from the first suds, must have a little soap rubbed on the 
worst stains or soiled spots — enough to make a good suds when 
they are put into the boiler of cold water, and placed over the fire. 
Nothing turns clothes a bad color so quickly as to put them into 
hot water, and if they are allowed to boil long it is very much 
worse. From twenty to twenty-five minutes' slow boiling is quite 
long enough for the dirtiest articles. Sheets, pillow-cases, towels, 
handkerchiefs, table-linen, etc. , should have very little boiling. Let 
them scald for twenty-five minutes without at any time coming to 
full boiling heat, and the color will be much clearer, ahd streaks 
or stains be more readily taken out, if boiling is rejected for all but 
the coarsest and dirtiest articles. 

There is another negligent or ignorant act which yellows clothes 
very rapidly, and that is rinsing them in too little water, and neg- 
lecting to change the water when it first begins to turn cloudy or 
show the suds. The first rinsing- water must be carefully watched, 
taking care that there is an abundance of water, and changed so 
often that when put into the last rinsing or blued-water there shall 
be no indication of suds or soap in that water. Careless rinsing, 
by leaving soap in the clothes, will in two or three wasliings begin 
to change color of white articles to a dingy yellow, and it is a long 
and difiicult piece of work to bring them back to their proper color. 

In these hints we have referred particularly only to the washing 
of white goods, and more especially linen and cotton; but in wash- 
ing woolen goods there is a mode, well indorsed, but which we have 
not tried, of washing white merino, flannel or white cashmere with- 
out using soap at all, but common wheat-bran and hot water. It 
makes an excellent lather, and if these articles are washed in this 
way, it is confidently affirmed that they will not shrink in the least, 
or turn yellow, but be as white as when first bought. 

In washing colored cotton goods there are a great number of ways 



HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 166 

by whicli the color may be preserved. For buffs or gray linen a 
tablespoonful of black pepper to a pailful of water will "set" the 
color, and not harden the water at all. Let the articles to be washed 
soak in this water a half hour or so, and then wash as usual. It 
is excellent for black or colored cambrics or muslins, ^nd with 
ordinary good washing these articles can be kept looking new a long 
time. The suds should be made with the water in which the black 
pepper was put, and in which they are soaked. Buffs and gray are 
not easily spotted after having been washed in the pepper-water. 
It not only prevents fading, but keeps the color from "running." 

A thoroughly good housekeeper says that when washing black 
calico, or all goods whose colors will not look clear when dried, she 
first washes the goods clean, rinses thoroughly, and then puts them 
into a tub of clear, cold water, and lets the articles remain soaking 
in this water several days, changing it once or twice a day. She 
says she has kept these goods, if at all inclined to fade or run, in this 
clean, cold water ten days or a fortnight, changing the water daily, 
and in the end they came out fresh and bright as if direct from the 
store. There is no trouble in this except the extra work of chang- 
ing the water. 

Others claim, if boiled in vinegar before putting it in water at all, 
plain black calico or muslin will never fade or turn brown or 
rusty. This seems a risky experiment; but if at all skeptical about 
the results, take a small piece of the goods, and experiment on it 
before venturing on the whole dress. 

Ox-gall is also excellent, we know, to preserve colors, and is easily 
procured of the butcher or from the druggist; and while delicately 
colored stockings are so much worn it is a wise thing to keep it 
and powdered borax near by for frequent use. Put a teaspoonful 
of powdered borax to every pail of hot water, and a tablespoonful 
of ox-gall. Use very little soap. After using ox-gall the first time 
the garment is washed, it will not be necessary to use it again; 
borax after that will do all that is needed. In washing colors in 
this way, it is not well to let them remain any longer in the water 
than it must take to cleanse them. Hang all colored goods in the 
shade to dry. 

Be particular to remove all stains from white goods before they 



166 HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 

are wet or put iu to the wash. If there is any ink on any white 
article, dip the spot in boiling hot tallow before it has been wet; let 
it cool, then wash out in hot soap-suds, and the ink will disappear. 
If any article is iron-molded, prepare oxalic acid and cream of tartar 
in the proportion of one part of oxalic acid to four parts cream of 
tartar. Dip the finger in water, then dip it in the powder, and 
rub on the iron-mold. Keep the spot moist by dipping the finger 
in the water and then into the powder, and rub it on the spot 
several times. The stain will soon disappear. As soon as no trace 
of the mold is left, wash the linen first in pure, cold water, then 
put it in the suds with the rest of the wash, and proceed as usual. 
Be careful not to leave the acid on the linen a moment longer than 
is necessary to remove the stain, as it will soon injure the texture 
of the cloth. Oxalic acid is deadly poison, and the poAvder should 
be closely bottled and marked "Poison" and put safely away where 
no one will meddle with it but those who have charge of the work. 
After the stain disappears, wash the hands carefully before using 
them for any thing else. An old tooth-brush is better to wet and 
dip in the powder and wet the stain with than the finger, if, with 
the vial of powder, it can be safely put away. 

Or, with less trouble, one can put a teaspoonful of oxalic acid in 
a pint of boiling water, and dip the stain in the solution till the 
stain is removed, and then rinse in clear water, and wash as usual. 

Fruit-stains on colored goods can be removed before washing by- 
just wetting the spot, and holding it over a lighted brimstone 
match. The gas from the sulphur on the match is almost sure to 
remove the stain. 

If vinegar, lemon or any strong acid has taken the color from 
silks, the color may be restored by mixing a little saleratus with a 
strong soap-lather and carefully touching the spot with it. Be 
careful and allow it to touch only the spot. Just touching the 
spot with ammonia will also restore the color if taken out by com- 
mon fruit-stains. 

It is a good and wise arrangement to have all the large woolen 
blankets washed in summer, because there are longer days, more 
clear sky, and warmer sun to dry and bleach them. Never attempt 
to wash blankets except on a day that promises clear weather; for 



HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 167 

if they are caught in a shower they will be injured more than by 
a half-dozen good washings. Begin early in the morning; one needs 
the whole day to be sure that the blankets are thoroughly dried 
before leaving tlie clothes-line. First make a strong suds before 
the blanket is wet, so as to have no soap adhere to the blanket. 
Have it hotter than the hands will bear. Wash but one blanket 
at a time. Put that one blanket into the hot suds, pressing it well 
under the water with the clothes-stick. While cooling enough to 
handle, prepare a second water, of a weaker suds and boiling hot 
water; then a third tub of hot water with scarcely any soap. The 
guds that will still adhere to the blanket will nearly make the third 
water soapy enough, for it is better to have rinsing-water for woolens 
a little soapy. Put bluing into the third water, well stirred in. 
Do not rub on the board, but press them up and down in the suds 
till clean. Rubbing curls the nap of the blanket into little, hard 
balls, and makes the blanket harsh. Wring out lightly with the 
hands ; never a wringer, for the same reason given above. If con- 
venient, get a second person to help wring and pull out carefully 
into the original shape and size. Then put it into the second suds, 
keep well under the water, and put a second blanket into the first 
euds to soak till the first is rinsed through the last suds and hung 
up to dry. 

It is a good plan to pour the first suds back into the boiler, put 
in the second blanket, and set the boiler on one side of the range 
to keep at the right heat; and when the first blanket has been 
passed through the rinsing-water, put the blanket into the third 
guds, and set the first rinsing- water over the fire to keep hot; in 
that way one can wash at least four good-sized blankets without 
making new suds, unless very dirty. 

Each blanket, as it passes through the three diflferent suds, should 
be gently wrung, well stretched and snapped, if there are two to> 
work together. This is almost the only kind of household labor 
that is not expedited by each one doing it alone. 

After the blanket has passed through the third water (the bluing 
water), it needs to be very faithfully snapped and stretched and 
hung on the line, taking great care that the corners are pulled 
straight, and that the blanket is hung straight lengthwise by a 



168 HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 

thread, and securely pinned on the line. When about a third dry, 
let two go to the line and turn it widthwise as perfectly straight, 
by a thread. 

Four blankets are enough to do in a day, so as to be sure of their 
being dried before night. Before the dew falls lift them from the 
line; one person taking two corners, the second the opposite cor- 
ner; pull them out straight, fold by a thread, and put into the 
clothes-basket neatly. The next morning, as the woolens may have 
gathered a little dampness, when the sun is well up unfold them 
and put across the line straight for an hour, to be sure they are 
thoroughly dried. Then fold very carefully and pack away in the 
linen-closet, or into moth-proof barrels. 

We have many inquiries as to the best kinds of "washing 
fluids," and have not a few recipes sent to learn if we think them 
injurious. For instance, a washing fluid, said to be one of the best 
ever made, is prepared as follows: 

"To five quarts of water put one pound of sal-soda, half a pound 
of unslacked lime, a small lump of borax. Let this mixture boil a 
minute ; then take from the fire and let it cool. When quite cold, 
pour off" from the dregs or sediment, and bottle. Use one teacup 
of this fluid to a boiler full of clothes." 

Now, without doubt, this mixture will make clothes look very 
white, and much decrease the labor of rubbing out the dirt and 
stains; but we are sure that using it once a week for a month or 
two would greatly weaken the fabric of the cloth, and ruin the 
clothes for long service. One pound of sal-soda and half a pound 
of unslacked lime to only five quarts of water must be much too 
powerful to risk clothes with very often. 

There are a large variety of washing fluids, each one of which 
claims that no harm is done to the fabrics they are used to cleanse; 
but all have soda, lye or lime in their composition, all of which 
substances are, in more or less degree, corrosive; and we notice 
when any specific directions are given, a caution is always subjoined 
against allowing clothes to be left long in the suds in which the 
washing fluid is used. "It does not rot the clothes, but they must 
not lie long in the water. The boiling, sudsing, rinsing and bluing 



HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 169 

must follow each other in quick succession." Why? Why this 
haste, if no injury can be done by the fluid? 

But there is something to be said in favor of all such fluids. 
They are excellent, added to hot suds, for removing grease-spots 
from floors, windows, doors, or the cleaning of wooden-ware, tin- 
ware, pots and kettles. There is nothing better, provided they are 
well rinsed and dried, to prevent rusting. 

Ox-gall soap is an excellent article to use in cleansing woolens, 
silks, or fine prints liable to fade. To make it, take one pint of 
gall, cut into it two pounds of common bar-soap very fine, and add 
one quart boiling soft- water. Boil slowly, stirring occasionally 
until well mixed, then pour into a fliit vessel, and when cold cut 
into pieces to dry. When using, make a suds of it, but do not rub 
on the article to be washed. 

Soap for Family Use. — A large proportion of the soap for toilet 
or laundry use is greatly adulterated, and often with substances 
injurious to the skin, if not actually poisonous. It is well for 
housekeepers to know the signs and be able to form a tolerably cor- 
rect judgment of what they purchase. The fat used to make soap 
is often tried out from sick animals, or those that have died from 
poison or from malignant diseases. This can be used safely, 
although not agreeable to think of, if one is sure that in making 
the soap the fat has been thoroughly "saponified," or turned into 
genuine, unadulterated soap. But, once made and turned over to 
the market for sale, it is not easy to judge correctly. 

When making soap, if the fat is heated to a high degree, a soap- 
like substance rises round the fatty particles. If allowed to reach 
this state of great heat, and then some of the adulterations, such 
as sal-soda, silicate, or resin, are added, the fat will not become 
clear soap, or be "saponified," but remains filmy. In this case, if 
the fat was from a poisoned or diseased animal, it will remain so. 
It can not be purified, and will be dangerous to use. If such soap 
is made into bars, or hard soap, it will always feel oily — a sure 
sign that it is not fit to use. When soap feels sticky, there has 
been too much resin in it. When the fat is pure and the soap 
properly made, it will have a slippery feeling, that when once no- 
ticed will not be forgotten. 



170 HINTS ABOUT WASHING. 

Soft soap, if pure, will always be semi-transparent. If filmy or 
clouded, the grease from which it is made is dirty or impure. It 
is always safer to buy soap that is warranted pure. Many of the 
substances added to the great number of wonderful soaps adver- 
tised, are in no way serviceable in extracting dirt or stains; but by 
increasing the weight with less costly articles, the venders make a 
profit at the expense of the consumers. Fiften per cent, of resin 
may improve soap or make it more cleansing, but beyond that all 
that is used deteriorates the quality of the soap. And yet we learn 
many varieties of hard soap sold have at least seventy-five per cent, 
of resin, and those who purchase get only one- third of what they 
spent their money for. 

It is very little trouble to make the soap for laundry and kitchen 
purposes at home. If all the grease is saved and tried out from' 
the bones and scraps so as to keep sweet and clean, and when a 
quantity is collected, lye from hard-wood ashes or pure potash is 
added to it, any one can have the best of soap, and with it the sat- 
isfaction of knowing it is free of all injurious adulterations. There 
is not a great amount of labor in making it. 

Never use concentrated lye to make family soap. It is too cor- 
rosive. But, if convenient, after melting the grease, add the lye 
to that, and boil together. If not convenient to do that, put the 
lye cold into the cask and melt the grease; when hot, pour it to the 
cold lye. Stir it well together; and two or three times a day, when 
near the cask, stir it thoroughly. If the lye is either too strong 
or too weak, it will not cut the grease and combine together. If 
too strong, pour in water — not much at a time. If too weak, add 
stronger lye, also in small quantities, until the desired effect is at- 
tained. 

Lye should be strong enough to bear up an egg so that a very 
small part of the shell rises above the water, not larger than a dime. 
Pine -wood casks are the best for holding soap or lye. 

These directions are intended only for soft soap. In the city it is 
too much trouble to make hard soap, but only the best kinds should 
be used. In the country one has more facilities for making both 
hard and soft soap, especially in farmers' families, where they can 
save some hard-wood ashes, even if not enough for all the soap 



STARCH AND STARCHING. 171 

they need, and nothing will make soap so satisfactory as lye from 
hard-wood ashes. 

Every young housekeeper should understand that, without her 
own careful watchfulness and quiet supervision, very much grease 
that could be usefully employed as shortening — or, if too coarse for 
that, for soap — is thrown into the soap-fat pot and sold as the cook's 
perquisites without the mistress having any knowledge of it. If it 
is understood from the beginning that the mistress will take care 
that all the waste grease is saved, tried out and strained, and by- 
and-by made into soft soap, two good things may be gained — 
temptation to dishonesty on the part of the servants will be i-e- 
moved, and a quantity of pure, clean soap may be obtained. Twen- 
ty-five pounds of well-saved grease will make a thirty-two gallon 
cask of soap. 



STARCH AND STARCHING. 

In commerce there are two classes of starch ; that used for food — 
as arrowroot, sago, tapioca, etc. — and that which is used in the 
laundry, of which there are but three kinds very generally in use, 
manufactured from wheat, rice and potatoes. Some use simply 
wheat-flour for starching colored or coarse articles, but the saving 
in its use is not sufficient to compensate for the yellow look it gives 
white clothes, or the muddy, faded hue that colored articles assume. 
Poland and French starch are considered purer, less likely to be 
adulterated, than the English or American. 

To secure the pure starch that comes from wheat, the grain need 
not be ground at all. It is well winnowed and all impurities and 
foreign substances removed, and then covered with cold water and 
left to soak until the husk can be easily removed, and the grain has 
become so softened that a milky juice flov/s from it on pressing it 
between the fingers. The water is then drained oft" and the wheat 
put into coarse crash or duck-bags and thrown into another vat of 
water, when it is subjected to heavy pressure. The milk which the 



172 STABCH AND STARCHING. 

kernels contain is thus pressed out, and mixes with the water ; and 
When no more will flow the sacks of grain are removed, and the 
water left undisturbed till this milky portion, or starch, settles to 
the bottom. But it will not be quite pure, as a portion of the gluten, 
or gummy part of the wheat, will have mixed with the milk, or 
starch, under the pressure, although most of it will remain with 
the refuse in the sacks. 

In order to release the starch from any portion of gluten, and 
make it white and pure, it is left in the water about ten days in 
summer and fifteen in winter, or until it ferments. This fermen- 
tation results from the sugary mucilage, which is one of the prop- 
erties of wheat. It is this which first starts the working of the 
grain, and in the end produces a kind of vinegar, the acid of which 
has the effect to dissolve the gluten, but does not in any way affect 
the starch. As soon as this working, or fermentation, has lasted 
long enough to free the starch from all other matter, the starch 
will settle to the bottom, quite white and free from all impurities. 
The water is then poured off* with care, and more water poured over 
the starch which lies at the bottom, and that is then loosened, or 
stirred up from the bottom, into the water, and again left to settle. 
This washing is continued till the starch has been put through sev- 
eral waters. It is then dried, first in the open air, then in an oven 
not hot enough to change the color. When put into the oven to 
dry, the starch breaks up into irregular shapes, as we find it in the 
boxes. Enough bluing should be added during the last washings 
to give it a clear bluish tinge, with no trace of the yellow color 
which is often seen in second-rate starch. 

Rice-water has for very many years been used for starching mus- 
lins, and is thought, in some respects, to be superior to Poland starch. 
It will not stick to the irons when ironing, and if properly made is 
excellent for fine articles not requiring to be very stiff". Boil the 
rice without putting it in a bag. When the rice is done, pour oflf 
all the water, and then boil it till quite thick — about like well-thick- 
ened starch. Within a few years there has been considerable rice- 
starch manufactured, and many prefer it to the best wheat-starch; 
imagining that the fine articles look clearer, more like new, and 



STARCH AND STARCHING. 175 

finding much comfort in starch that will not stick to the irons and 
leave spots or scales of burnt starch on the clothing. 

Potato-starch may not be quite as good as Poland, but it is very 
convenient, as it can easily be made at home, and, when prepared 
with care, it will take very keen eyes to detect any difference in the 
appearance of articles starched with good potato-starch and the best 
of Poland ; but if garments are left long unused when done up in 
potato-starch, they are more liable to turn yellow. 

The process of manufacturing potato-starch is very simple. Se- 
lect the most mealy potatoes, wash them perfectly clean and grate 
them into a large vessel or tub of clean water. Stir the pulp 
about in the water as it is put in. After a short time the pulp will 
all settle to the bottom. Then pour off the whitish water with much 
care, so that none of the pulp will mingle with it. Set it aside and 
add more water to the grated potato. Stir it up Avell, leave it to 
settle, and then drain off the milky water as before. C/ontinue this, 
adding water to the pulp each time till the water runs clear, with na 
milky color about it. Put this water, as it is drained off, all in the 
same tub. When all the starch is secured that can be obtained 
from the pulp, leave it undisturbed for an hour or two to settle, 
when the milky portion, or starch, will fall to the bottom of the tub 
or pan, leaving the water perfectly pure. Pour off the water when 
clear; it can be done without any waste of the starch, as that will, 
when settled, form a solid mass and adhere to the bottom so well 
that none will drain off with the water. This done, set the tub or 
pan in which the starch is, in the sun till thoroughly dry. When 
dried, there will be in weight about one-fifth as much as of the pota- 
toes that were used. 

Potatoes contain no gluten, and consequently there will be no 
fermentation to separate the starch from the pulp, as in wheat ; 
but the starch, when well washed, needs only to be thoroughly dried 
and put into boxes ready for use. This kind of starch thickens 
quicker than wheat, and is really so nearly equal to Poland starch 
that it is difficult, if not impossible, to tell by the looks of the 
clothes which has been used. It should be kept in a dry, cool 
place, as it is liable to grow damp in wet weather. It takes a less 
quantity of starch for the same quantity of clothes than any other 



174 STARCH AND STARCHINO. 

variety, yet is very little used, although of late it seems to be bet- 
ter appreciated. It is but little trouble to make sufficient potato- 
starch to last a good-sized family a year, even when done at home, 
■with no machinery but a clean tub or pan and a good-sized grater. 
It is, however, manufactured for market. 

Having selected the starch, the next step is to choose from many 
and diverse rules, for making and using it, those which are found 
best to meet the wants and judgment of the person who is to have 
charge. Some advise to boil the starch at least twenty minutes, 
and others say it must not be boiled over five minutes ; for potato- 
starch that is long enough. Some recommend putting a little but- 
ter into the starch, others lard, salt, tallow, sperm, starch-polish, 
isinglass, gum-arabic or kerosene. Others object to boiling starch 
at all, but use raw starch, especially for collars, cuffs, shirt-bosoms, 
and all things that need to be very stiff — one tablespoonful of starch 
to every shirt, dissolved and rubbed smooth, and sufficient water 
added to wet thoroughly the articles to be starched. As soon as 
well wet and rubbed in, dip the piece starched quickly in clear cold 
water, wring hard, and roll it up in a towel for an hour before iron- 
ing. It is quite important that the piece starched should be instantly 
dipped quickly into clear cold water, so that any particle of starch 
that may not have been dissolved shall be rinsed off, or when iron- 
ing it will stick to the iron and spoil the linen, or make it neces- 
sary to wash and starch it over again. 

But we think boiled starch is far better, giving a better finish to 
the work when ironed. 

We should say, use a tablespoonful of starch for every shirt- 
bosom, adding to that about two large spoonfuls mm-e, and that will 
leave plenty for other articles to be starched. Wet the starch in 
cold water, and with a wooden spoon stir it to a perfectly smooth 
paste. This done, pour in boiling water. Stir it rapidly, to keep 
from lumping, till it looks clear. Boil the starch ten or fifteen min- 
utes, and just before it is done add a small teaspoon of kerosene to 
every quart of starch. It gives a better gloss than lard or butter, 
which incline to yellow the linen. This proportion is enough, and 
has the effect to whiten as well as polish the goods. Too much is 
injurious. 



STARCH AND STARCHING. 175 

Use the starch scalding hot; rub it into the hnen till it is per- 
fectly filled with it, and will absorb no more. When it is not windy 
or frosty, starch the clothes as soon as thoroughly wrung from the 
rinsing-water. Frost and wind destroy the stiffness. After the 
shirts, collars, cuffs, etc., are dry, mix a tablespoonful of starch in 
cold water. Dissolve a piece of borax the size of a chestnut in a 
little boiling water, and pour to this starch, then add enough cold 
water to dip the bosoms, etc., in. Wring dry, and fold up tightly 
in a clean, dry towel. 

If, in ironing, starch sticks to the iron, it is too thick. If, as is 
often the case from the iron being too hot, the linen is yellowed, 
hang the garment in the sunshine, and the mark will disappear — 
that is, if it is not an absolute scorch. If the linen is dried before it 
is starched, just dip and wring out the cold water before putting into 
the starch. It will penetrate through the material more thoroughly 
than if dipped into hot starch while dry and stiff. 

Isinglass is a very delicate starch for muslins, and is good to givq 
gloss to linen if a little is dissolved and put to the starch before it 
finishes boiling. A little salt thrown into starch while boiling will 
keep it from sticking to the iron. 

It is a wise plan to keep starch-polish in the house, as it is easily 
made; shirts, collars and such articles as are thought nicer for a, 
good polish may be brought to the proper condition easier by its 
use. We add a good way to make it: 

One ounce white wax, two ounces spermaceti, and half or two- 
thirds of a teaspoonful of salt. Mix, and melt them together, and 
pour into a small cup or mold, and when cold it will be a hard, white 
cake. This polish will keep a long time; no danger of its mold- 
ing or souring. For three shirts a piece the size of a pea put into 
the starch, and well stirred in, will be sufficient. 

Or, when making starch for nice clothes, put a teaspoonful — or 
more, if a large washing — of the best quality of the white glue, 
which comes in thin scales, into a clean, bright tin-cup. Pour to 
it half a pint of cold water ; set the cup into a pail of warm water, 
and place it on the back of the stove until the glue has all melted. 
As soon as the starch is nearly done, strain this glue-water into the 
starch, add a pinch of salt free from any motes, and a very little 



176 IRONING. 

bluing — only a drop or two, according to the quantity of articles 
to be starched — and a small bit of white wax and spermaceti, not 
more than the size of a pea. 

When glue is used it will not be necessary to make starch so 
thick. Usually it should be about as thick as rich cream. 



IRONESTG. 

Washing, rinsing and starching having received a good share of 
attention, ironing demands its appropriate portion of the housekeep- 
er's care ; for, although not absolutely necessary to cleanliness, it is 
indispensable if one has regard to comfort a'nd neatness. 

Most women can iron passably well ; but to be able to do it in 
the most desirable manner, even the most dexterous and skillful will 
require long experience. 

Mangling answers very well, if done with care, for sheets, towels 
and plain pieces, but lacks the finish and gloss that can be secured 
by the use of hot irons skillfully applied. It is the most expedi- 
tious, certainly, and is not so hard on the fabric of our garments ; 
but unless the articles thus smoothed are pulled into shape, and 
folded with the greatest care, we, at least, find no pleasure in them. 
But the mangle can not be used for fine or delicate goods or where 
there are plaits, gathers or folds. 

All qualities of goods, after having been washed, dried, and, if 
necessary, starched, must be folded with care, preparatory to iron- 
ing, or the work can not be well done. Do not roll the things up 
carelessly, with the excuse that it takes too much time to be so 
particular about it. On the contrary, it is a most essential time- 
saver. Sprinkle linen or cotton slightly, put the corners together, 
and pull out evenly into the proper shape; fold evenly, by bringing 
the selvages into a true line, fold over straight or in the same line, 
roll up very tightly, wrap in a clean towel, and, after soaking thus 
till thoroughly dampened, begin to iron. Any one who objects to 
this process on the score of economizing time, will see, by actual 



IRONING. 177 

experiment, how much easier the work is accomplished on account 
of careful preparation by exact folding. 

Any person of experience, either in doing the ironing or over- 
seeing it, will easily detect imperfection in the work, and especially 
the effects of careless folding, which will make many wrinkles and 
unseemly creases, and, peihaps, iron-rust stains — or what looks 
like them. For if a garment, sheet, tablecloth, etc., is badly 
folded after sprinkling — the ends uneven, the selvages unmatched, 
and all askew — no laundress is so skillful as to be able to iron it 
without leaving some inequality of surface, so that there will be 
ridges ; and as the iron passes rapidly over the damp surface any 
rust or scorched starch on the iron will at once adhere to the 
article. 

By the way, that points to another duty of the housekeeper, of 
which we have before spoken. AVhen the basket of ironed clothes 
is brought up from the laundry, to be sorted over and examined 
by the mistress, she must not be satisfied with simply the external 
appearance. Most laundresses will have the last folding nicely 
ironed — unless they have learned that their employer's eyes are not 
keen to examine, or that she is "so easy" that the laundress is 
expected to sort them out and put them away herself. The house- 
keeper's business is to be wide-awake, as she puts the various ar- 
ticles in their proper places. It is not infringing upon her time. 
It only calls for close observation, just to notice each piece; see 
that there are no dark streaks on collars or wristbands from lack 
of thorough washing, no brown or yellow stains on the seams, to 
show that the iron used was not well cleaned. In putting shirts 
and undergarments into the drawers a quick, careful eye will soon 
learn if they are well done throughout, or simply on the surface. 
There are but two remedies for the latter. Let the girl see that 
her mistress well understands the difference between false and true; 
and, while she kindly but firmly points out the defects, and state* 
explicitly the only way that will satisfy her, quietly returns the 
disfigured pieces to be washed and done up anew. Let her try 
this way until fully satisfied whether the girl is ignorant or stub- 
born. If the latter, the second course is the only one left: dismiss 
the laundress, and search for one who is willing, at least, to try and 

J2 



178 IRONING. 

do her work properly. A willing hand, guided by a kind and 
intelligent mistress, will soon master all difficulties and make the 
work easy. 

In ironing there are several things to be observed before the work 
is really begun : 

The ironing-board or table should be firm and strong, and im- 
movable while ironing. For that reason it is a good idea, where 
there are stationary wash-tubs, to have a top cover, or lid, made ex- 
pressly for an ironing-board ; or, if one has not this convenience, a 
table mortised or set in the wall in a convenient part of the room, 
and with two strong, firm legs to hold the front side, is a great 
comfort. The legs may be made with a flat base so that they can 
be screwed into the floor. Some provide a table with hinges on one 
side, and legs that can be turned up in front, so the table can be let 
down when not in use and hang by the wall. But this can never 
be a firm table; and it is of much importance, when ironing, that 
the latter does not shake while one is at work. 

The arrangements for heating the irons should, as far as possible, 
be such that they can be kept perfectl}'- clean, either in a pan pro- 
vided expressly for that purpose, or by a stove kept for ironing 
only. If set on the stove they are in danger of being soiled by 
something cooking, or becoming rusty from some fluid boiling over 
•on the stove. It is of the greatest importance that the smoothing- 
iron should be kept perfectly smooth, free from rust or burnt starch. 
A paper or piece of cloth should lie on tlie table with a piece of 
beeswax laid between the folds. If tlie starch sticks (it never will 
if rightly prepared) rub the iron first on some wood-ashes or salt, 
and then quickly over the wax, rub it on a clean cloth, and then, 
if not rusted in deeply, it will work smoothly. In buying sad-irons 
(so called from the old Northern word sad or solid) be careful and 
select three sizes, and all of the smoothest surface. One size, large 
and heavy, for coarse garments; one, a medium size, for linen and 
cotton ; and the polish ing-iron for starched clothes, rounding at the 
sides and ends, by which, after a garment is half-ironed with a 
^common iron, a polish can be secured by a very brisk movement, 
tipping the iron a little on the rounded side. 

For the ironing-table a coarse, woolen blanket is needed, which 



IRONING. 179 

should be stretched double thickness on the table, and large enough 
to entirely cover it. Then draw the corners down tight, and tack 
them folded over the corners of the table. Four tacks are enough, 
which can easily he removed if tlie table is needed for other pur- 
poses. By thus tacking the corners to the table, and drawing them 
tight over it, a plain, smooth surface is secured, on which to pin a 
cotton sheet doubled. 

A bosom-board should be about eight inches wide, and from sev- 
enteen to eighteen long, and perfectly smooth and level. Cover one 
side of the board with two thicknesses of coarse flannel, or a piece 
of an old blanket drawn tightly over the board, and large enough 
to be tacked just over the edge of the board. Cover with two 
thicknesses of cotton of the same size. The other side, also per- 
fectly smooth, should have but two thicknesses of strong cotton laid 
and tacked over the edge, to lap on to the cover of the other side. 
This is to be used to put the last polish to shirt-bosoms after they 
have been partially ironed. Galvanized tacks with smooth heads 
should be used, that there may be no danger of iron-rust or injury 
to the linen. 

First, iron the shirt all over, wring a clean cloth out of clean hot 
water, and rub over the bosom. Go over the bosom rapidly with 
a very clean hot iron, then with a plated knife or thin paper-cutter 
raise the plaits, and iron again rapidly. Then rub the bospm again 
with a damp cloth, turn the bosom-board over, so that the hard 
surface with the thin cover will come under the shirt-bosom, and 
iron with the polishing-iron, expending as much strength in bear- 
ing down as possible. Rub briskly with the rounded end of the 
hot iron back and forth, ironing only a small strip at a time, till the 
whole bosom is of a clear polish. The polishing-irons must be 
wrapped up in flannel or paper when not in use, and kept dry and 
always bright. 

It is difficult to give written directions for ironing. Practice is 
the best teacher. Things that are to be flat when finished, such 
as cuff's and collars, should be covered with a clean, fine linen cloth; 
a towel is too coarse, or has too large threads, and will leave their 
imprint on the article ironed. This cloth is to be placed on the 
article, and the iron passed over it once or twice until there is no 



180 THE HISTORY OF COFFEE. 

mote or starch that will adhere to the iron. This done, remove 
the cloth, lay the article smooth, pull the ends and corners straight 
and even, and then go over it firmly and briskly with a smooth, 
clean iron, and finish with the polishing-iron. 

Fine, soft articles, such as need no polishing, as lace and muslins, 
should be ironed on a soft ironing-blanket, with a soft, fine ironing- 
sheet. All such articles, after a careful sprinkling, must be rolled 
up smoothly, and unrolled one at a time. Laces, of course, are to 
be carefully brought into shape, and all the edge or purling pulled 
out like new, folded carefully, and not ironed. 

In ironing silks, cover them over with paper or fine cotton, and 
use only a moderately heated iron, taking great care that the iron 
does not touch the silk at all, or it will make the silk look glossy 
and show that it has been ironed. Any white article, if scorched 
slightly, can be in part restored, so far as looks go ; but any scorching 
injures the fabric, and no efiect can entirely control or counteract 
the mischief. 

As far as possible, iron by the ifiread — that is, pull the material 
straight, and endeavor to move the iron in the same line with the 
thread of the cloth. 

(In suggestions for making starch we omitted the caution to 
cover over the starch close, as soon as made, to prevent any thick 
scum forming on the top. That is a waste of starch, and if not 
entirely removed will be sure to stick to irons.) 



TIIE HISTORY OF COFFEE. 

"Coffee! Oh, Coifee! Faith, it is surprising, 
'Mid all the poets, good and bad — and worse — 
No one — poor, little brown Arabian berry — 
Hath sung thy praises. 'Tis surprising — very !" 

This little brown berry was unknown two hundred years ago, or 
only used by the uncivilized Abyssinians as they found it growing 
wild in their forests. But now, aU through the East, coflTee is con- 



THE HISTORY OF COFFEE. 181 

sidered quite as indispensable as the pipe ; and throughout Europe 
and our own country it is classed among the necessaries of life, 
sought for, and, as far as possible, used, or its counterfeits, by rich 
and poor. Literary people and men of business have learned to 
feel that they can not enter upon their morning labors until they 
have braced themselves up with a cup of coffee as their morning 
stimulant. The belle who is bleaching her roses by fashionable dis- 
sipation, far into the small hours of night, can not rouse herself the 
next day from the consequent listlessness and stupor, until her 
coffee is first brought up to her bedside. 

"The proud sons of highest civilization are now miserable with- 
out the coffee of the African robbers, the tobacco of the red bar- 
barian, the tea of the despised Chinese, and the sugar of the 
wretched Hindoo or negro. They can not break their fast with- 
out coffee, and after their dinner require it as a digestant. The 
whole social life in many nations seems based upon this insignifi- 
cant bean, which, two centuries ago, was only known as a wild 
African production, occasionally used by the natives as food or 
drink." 

Coffee was first discovered, it is said, growing wild in Southern 
Abyssinia, and was called after one section of Eastern Africa — 
Kaffa. In that region it grows wild and abundantly. There are 
many legends respecting its discovery and use. 

In 1285 it is said that Hadji Omer, a dervish, was expelled 
from Mocha for some real or fancied misdeed, and, hiding in the 
forests, was driven by hunger to parch and eat the berries of the 
coffee- tree. Finding them palatable as well as nourishing, he next 
tried the experiment of steeping the bruised berries in water and 
drinking the decoction. When his enemies looked for his remains 
in the woods into which they had thrust him, they found him well 
and strong, and, of course, voted this to be a miracle sent to prove 
his innocence, and at once proclaimed him a saint. 

In the fifteenth century a Mohammedan priest was overtaken by 
grievous illness while returning from Persia, and was given coffee 
as a medicine. Experiencing great benefit from its curative quali- 
ties, and feeling it to be inspiriting as well as strengthening, he 
commenced a series of experiments with the "black draught.** 



182 THE HISTORY OF COFFEE. 

Among others, he gave it to the monks under his charge, hoping 
its exhilarating effects would rouse them from their torpidity during 
the hours of prayer, and, finding it a successful experiment, after a 
time a coffee-room was organized. These resorts led to indulgences 
not to be tolerated in the priests of Mohammed, and the ruling 
priest sought for some plausible reason for abolishing these places. 
As this new drink was prepared from a roasted berry, these wis© 
men decided that a roasted kernel must be some kind of coal, and, 
the Prophet having forbidden the use of coal, they therefore pro- 
hibited the use of coffee. 

But the people as well as the priests, having tasted, were not 
ready to forego the luxury. The mufti taxed coffee heavily; but 
no prohibition, however stringent, could debar them from this lux- 
ury, and it was still used in secret. At length another mufti be- 
came ruler of public affairs, who decided that coffee was not coal, 
but, on the contrary, a most valuable article of commerce, which 
could greatly increase the revenue of the government. The appe- 
tite that had taken possession of all classes steadily increased ; the ' 
poor would beg for money to procure a cup of coffee ; and at last if 
a husband refused to provide coffee for his wife, it was considered 
sufficient cause for her to leave him or procure such separation as 
could be obtained by the laws. 

In 1615 coffee was fii-st brought into Venice, and used there mod- 
erately. Thirty years later a gentleman brought some of the cof- 
fee-beans from Constantinople to Marseilles, with all the then known 
contrivances for making it. From thence it rapidly found its way 
into most parts of Western Europe. An attempt was then made 
to introduce the use of coffee after dinner, but failed of any marked 
success until about 1668, when the Turkish consul, by giving cof- 
fee parties in Paris, succeeded in establishing the fashion in the cap- 
ital of France. 

In 1671 a cafe was established, and a few years later a Florentine 
established a saloon, opened only to the nobility and people of 
wealth. From that time onward, " Yemen's fragrant berry" gained 
rapidly in popularity; immense sums were spent for the gratifica- 
tion of its devotees ; none but the wealthy could indulge in the pure, 
unadulterated beverage. It is stated that Louis XV. expended fifteen 



THE HISTORY OF COFFEE. 183 

thousand dollars yearly to gratify his daughter's extravagant use 
of it. At that time four or five guineas a pound was paid for 
coflle, or from twenty to twenty-five dollars. 

In 1714 Louis XIV. was presented with a cofTee-tree by the 
magistrates of Amsterdam. It was committed to the care of the 
head gardener for propagation, and by him taken to Martinique, 
where lie could give it the most careful cultivation. The voyage 
from Paris to the king's West India territories proved severe and 
stormy, and withal was a very long one, and thus, aside from the 
distress and discomfort of those on board, the well-being of the cof- 
fee-tree was greatly endangered. But when the food and water 
failed, and all were put on short rations, so sacredly did the gar- 
dener who had charge of the tree protect and guard it, that he 
divided his small pittance of water with it during the storm to 
keep it from dying. By such faithful care, according to the French 
legend, the one coffee-tree presented to the king was brought safely 
to the hot India soil, and from that one plant, by skillful propaga- 
tion, have sprung most of the coffee plantations and supplies that 
are now so widely and freely scattered over Europe. The English, 
however, claim that fifty-seven years earlier an English merchant 
brought coffee from Smyrna, which his Turkish servant taught 
him to prepare, and that, after a time, this servant opened a cof- 
fee-house in London, in ])artnership with a son-in-law of his former 
master, Edwards. Both stories may be true. 

The coffee-tree, in good soil and under skillful care, grows from 
twelve to fifteen feet high. The leaves are a rich, deep, glossy 
green, like the orange, but in shape somewhat like the laurel, 
though sharper and much richer in appearance. The blossoms 
are wonderfully beautiful — a clear white, somewhat like the jas- 
mine — and exceedingly fragrant ; a grove in full bloom perfumes, 
the air for miles around. The blossom bursts into full bloom in. 
a single night, and one wakes to find the rich, dark leaves almost 
buried in the snowy flowers. They last but a few days ; very soon 
the red pod Avhich holds the bean is fully developed. The pod, 
when ripe, is about the size of a chei-ry, and each holds two ker- 
nels, which fit close together and are held in place by a tough skin 
called the parchment, and these again are enveloped by a yellow 



184 THE USE OF COFFEE. 

pulp. When gathered, they are spread in the sun a few days while 
the pulp ferments. This done, they are slowly dried for two or 
three weeks, either in the sun or by artificial heat, and then the 
parchment which incloses them is dry enough to be removed. 

The coffee acknowledged by all to be the best, comes from Ara- 
bia, from the province of Yemen, and the district of Aden and 
Mocha. The Mocha berries are smaller and rounder than most of 
the other varieties. The trees are chiefly cultivated on the mount- 
ainous slopes, where they have dry and stony soil. Berries ma- 
tured in such a soil are much more fragrant and have a richer 
flavor than those raised on richer soils, where the fruit grows 
larger, but, like most fruit or beans of large size, is less highly 
flavored. 

Cofiee, after being cured, is as sensitive as milk to any foreign 
substances. We lose much of the true aroma of coffee on account 
of its being brought from plantations in sacks rather than in kegs 
or boxes. A damp air is injurious, and in transportation much of 
the richness is lost by needless exposure to dampness. Housekeep- 
ers should, as far as possible, remedy this evil by giving their 
coffee dry, pure air as soon as they receive it. 



THE USE OF COFFEE. 



Raw as well as roasted coffee-berries are often used for medical 
purposes, but the principal use is for a beverage — a luxury. Coffee, 
we think, is best when between six months and a year old. Yet 
some dealers say it grows better with age, at least for three years. 

Coffee acts peculiarly on the nervous system, and through the 
nerves on all the organs, increasing their vitality and quickening 
their action, causing the brain to act with more energy, lessening 
fatigue and sleepiness, helping digestion, and counteracting the in- 
jurious effects of inordinate eating, and the dangers of extreme 
heat or cold or dampness. 

But though it unquestionably ia of great service to many, it can 



THE USE OF COFFEE. 185 

not be used by all, nor extravagantly by any, without injury after 
a time. With some it induces dyspepsia, instead of acting as a 
digestant, and disturbs' the nervous system, instead of proving bene- 
ficial; obstructs the action of the liver; causes twitching of the 
upper eye-lid, congestion and hemorrhoids. Good judgment and 
common sense should govern one in the use of coffee, else, like 
many other good gifts of God, it may become a curse and not a 
blessing. 

Few articles have been honored with so many rules and regula- 
tions. When first found growing wild in the forests by wandering 
tribes of Abyssiuians, it was gathered to satisfy the hunger of starv- 
ing men; and being found not only palatable, but nourishing, after 
the first urgent necessity for its use had passed each individual or 
tribe experimented with it in many ways of cooking or distilling. 

In the Eastern Archipelago the leaves of the coffee-tree were for 
a long time used by the natives before they learned the use of the 
bean or kernel. They were used as tea is in our day, producing a 
very agreeable beverage, having the same effect as the berry, but 
milder. Many who have tried this kind of coffee think it far 
superior to any drink made from the cofl'ee-bean. But the use of 
the leaves injures the tree, and, therefore, the kernel is more 
economical and profitable; and we imagine that most coffee-lovers 
who rejoice in the full strength and flavor, would find the tea from 
the leaves quite too weak, if not insipid, for their taste. 

To the Arabs coffee is as the water of life. Their mode of pre- 
paring it, as well as roasting it, is peculiar. 

In the corner of the room, at the greatest distance from the door, 
a square block of durable stone is placed instead of a stove or fire- 
place. It is hollowed out in the center, forming a kind of funnel 
or inverted cone, and so perforated on the bottom as to connect it 
with a small pipe through which the air is blown by a bellows to 
the lighted charcoal that is placed in the hollow stone. On, or near, 
the mouth of the furnace a large coffee-pot full of cold water is 
always to be found, ready to be boiled whenever the master desires 
a fresh cup of coffee. The furnace corner is called the "haivah," 
and is the place of honor, where the master sits when alone, or re- 
ceives his guests or chance-callers. 



186 THE USE OF COFFEE. 

On a shelf built around the outer edge of the furnace coffee-pots 
of various sizes and richness, according to the wealth of the owner, 
are placed. The larger the number thus exhibited, the nobler the 
position of the naaster. A slave is always stationed near the furnace 
to be ready to begin preparations for the inevitable cup of coffee; 
and the moment a guest enters the door the large coffee-pot filled 
with cold water is placed at once over the charcoal, which is kept 
always burning. While the water is heating he takes from a niche 
in the wall — a kind of cupboard — a dirty rag, closely tied. Open- 
ing it, he takes out a sufficient quantity of the unroasted coffee, 
pours it into a glass dish, and carefully culls out every imperfect 
or blasted kernel or any foreign substance. Then cleaning the per- 
fect berries with great care, he pours them into an iron ladle, and 
holds it over the mouth of the furnace, shaking it all the time, 
taking care that not one kernel is scorched, which would ruin the 
coffee in an Arab's estimation. The constant movement is con- 
tinued until the berries begin to redden and smoke. They are re- 
moved from the fire before they turn brown, and turned out into a 
platter to cool for a few moments, when they are pounded in a 
mortar until they are mashed, but not ground fine. 

As soon as the coffee is thus broken, the operator takes a small 
coffee-pot, puts in the coffee, and fills it half full of boiling water 
from the large coffee-kettle, shaking the coffee until well combined 
with the water, and lets it come to the boiling point over the char- 
coal fire. He stirs with a stick whenever the water begins to rise, 
to prevent its boiling over, and lets it boil or simmer very gently 
for a few minutes. 

From another old rag he takes a little saffron and a few beryl- 
seeds — a kind of Indian aromatic plant — and puts to the coffee a 
few minutes before it is done. No sugar or milk is allowed, but 
some kind of spice — and often two or three kinds — is thought neces- 
sary to the perfection of Arabian coffee. 

When the coffee is made, the servant puts some of the fibrous 
portions of the palm-tree bark into the spout of the coffee-pot, 
through which filtei'S the coffee, and places on a fine-colored glass 
tray as many tiny coffee-cups, not larger than an egg, as may be 
needed. The guests, while this is being prepared, converse with the 



THE USE OF COFFEE. 187 

host, and eat dates, dipping them in melted butter as ihey eat them. 
The coffee is now passed round, the slave drinking the first cup as 
a voucher of his honesty in preparing it. The cups are only half 
filled, but are passed often. They have an old saying, ''Fill the 
cup for your enemy." 

In Turkey roasted coffee is ground finer, and then put into an 
iron pan, and constantly stirred over the fire until heated through, 
but not so as to make it any darker colored. Then boiling water 
is poured to the hot ground coffee in the proportion of one pint to 
two ounces of coffee, or four tablespoonfuls. This is covered closely 
for five minutes, then strained through a cloth, heated again and 
served. Thus great strength is secured without boiling. Spices 
are sometimes used, but are not considered as indispensable to good 
coffee as with the Arabs. A dn^p of essence of amber, bruised 
cloves, etc., may be used, but no sugar or milk. A Turk must 
have his coffee very strong and hot. 

In many parts of Asia coffee is still used almost as thick as paste, 
and, like chocolate, drank with the whole substance, or grounds. 

In our own time there is far greater variety in the modes of prep- 
aration. Among all the perplexities that beset a young house- 
keeper there is none which she finds so difficult to conquer as to 
decide the very best way of making coffee. To have her coffee the 
very best is, for a time at least, often the height of a young wife's 
ambition. 

But " when doctors disagree, who shall decide?" One, whose at- 
tainments in culinary lore are above all question, claims that no 
woman can make the genuine article unless she boils her coffee ; 
another, accepted by the most as equally trustworthy, affirms that 
only by filtering can one retain the pure aroma; a third decides 
that coffee should be neither boiled nor filtered, but be allowed to 
come almost to the boiling point, and kept there for six or eight 
minutes. 

The way in which coffee is roasted is of the greatest importance ; 
and, when not properly done, no rules tor making the coffee will be 
of any avail. In coffee-roasting establishments the berries are put 
into an iron cylinder which is kept constantly in motion. The first 
effect is to evaporate considerable moisture, and thus the coffee is. 



188 THE USE OF COFFEE. 

in part, roasted in its own steam, and that will not secure the best 
of coffee. The only reliable way is to have it browned at home, 
and under the housekeeper's own eye. First, put the kernels into 
an open pan on the side of the stove or range, where they will heat 
slowly; then move them over a moderate fire, stirring constantly 
until they become a shade or two darker than the green kernels. 
This will dispose of all the surplus moisture which the cofiee con- 
tains, and it will escape without having the berries soaked in it. 
It will take but a few minutes to accomplish this; and they should 
then be put into a vessel which has been slowly heating on the 
stove, then closely covered to prevent any of the aroma escaping, 
put over an even heat, and kept constantly in motion. When they 
have been thoroughly heated through in the first operation, the 
second part of the work can be quickly disposed of. But constant, 
quick motion is indispensable to guard against any one of the ker- 
nels being at all scorched. One burnt kernel is sufficient to injure 
the flavor of the whole. When the whole mass is of a rich golden 
color, take it from the fire, and allow it to cool while still closely 
covered. 

Cofiee is much better when roasted, ground and used at once ; 
and, though that seems to entail much additional labor, it really 
does not. When accustomed to this way, one is surprised that so 
much extra pleasure can be secured with so little extra work. 

Coffee should be ground fine, but not into powder like flour. 
Much boiling destroys the delicate flavor, and, like tea, it should be 
made an infusion and not a decoction — steeped, rather than boiled. 
A minute or two boiling increases the strength, no doubt, but it 
also develops the sour taste which coffee-lovers dislike. Have the 
water boiling when poured on the coffee ; then keep it just ready to 
boil up. Restrain its energetic efforts to ascend. Keep it thus in 
bondage a few minutes — less than five — pour out a cupful to clear 
the spout, and pour back again at once ; set the coffee back on the 
stove, not over five minutes more, and none will complain of the 
coffee. 

Some measure out as much water as will be needed ; when boil- 
ing, pour out half; stir in the coffee; place over the fire, and let it 
boil up just once; remove from the fire a few minutes to settle, then 



THE USE OF COFFEE. 189 

pour off as clear as it will run, and set where it will keep hot. Now 
pour the second half of boiling water on the "grounds," and set 
over the fire to boil up just once, like the first. Let it also stand 
one side to settle, then pour off and add to the first half, and serve 
hot. Many claim that the very best part of the flavor is secured 
by this process. 

It is also claimed that one secures the best coffee in regions where 
the water is slightly alkaline, and therefore many who do not live 
in such regions add a little soda to the water used in making coffee. 

A mixture of one-third Mocha and two-thirds Java, or Old Gov- 
ernment Ceylon, is by, many, thought better than either alone. We 
prefer to roast our own coffee, or be close by where we can have 
personal supervision of the work. The different kinds of coffee 
must be roasted separately, and kept in separate canisters. Java 
and Ceylon require longer time than Mocha. 

Having roasted and ground the coffee, next examine the coffee- 
pot. Many housekeepers take it for granted that the cook will not 
fail to attend to so small an item. Not one servant in tw'enty sees 
the importance of perfect cleanliness in this respect. 

After each meal, where tea or coffee is used, all the sediments 
from the pots must be emptied. They must be then well rinsed — 
washed outside and in — in clean, hot suds; then rinsed in boiling 
water two or three times, to be sure that no soap-suds remain. Then 
wipe very dry, set out in the sun for a sun-bath — or, if cloudy, on 
the side of the stove or range — till thoroughly dried. This may 
seem a small thing to make so many words about ; but let house- 
keepers watch a little, and learn if we have said too much. Many 
a wife is blamed for poor coffee who would never have a word of 
censure if that coffee-pot had been properly cleaned. 

Coffee should not be made until a few minutes before the meal is 
served. Put the dry coffee into the clean coffee-pot, cover close, 
and put the cap on the spout, and leave it on the side of the stove 
till ready to pour on boiling water. Some prefer an egg, or part of 
one, beaten into the coffee just before pouring on the hot water. In 
that case, heat the coffee-pot, but not the coffee. To half a pint of 
ground coffee beat half an egg, using both yolk and white ; add 
two tablespoonfuls of cold water ; then pour in one quart of boiling 



190 THE USE OF COFFEE. 

water, and stir as the water is poured in. Cover tightly, putting 
the cap over the spout. Let it come slowly to the boiling point, 
then take off the cover, and stir down the coffee which rises to the 
top. Replace the cover; watch closely; let it just bubble again, 
and then set back to settle where it will keep hot. In five min- 
utes it will be as clear as molten gold, and ready to serve immedi- 
ately Avith good rich cream. No one need ask for better coftee. 
Have hot milk if desired, but never boiled milk. 

There is no space to speak of the great varieties of filterers by 
which many think coffee can be perfectly made. There is very 
little difference in the flavor when made in any one of these. The 
object is to get the purest flavor of the coffee. The best we have 
ever tried is one for which we find no name. The upper part has 
a pipe inside running to the perforated bottom ; a cup, also perfor- 
ated, fitting to the bottom of this upper receiver, is filled with the 
ground coffee, and then both are fitted closely into the bottom re- 
ceiver or coffee-pot. A thumb-screw fastens the top and bottom 
receivers, and when turned across shuts off the water from the 
coffee. Around the upper part, outside, just above the cup that 
holds the coffee, runs a tin saucer, that will hold, perhaps, a table- 
spoonful and a half of alcohol. Fill the top with hot or cold 
water; shut off the water from the ground coffee with the screw; • 
set fire to the alcohol outside ; cover the spout with the cap. As 
soon as the water boils, turn the screw up, and the boiling water 
will slowly flow through the coffee to the urn below. One-half the 
quantity usually taken will make a very strong cup of coffee. It 
can be made in five minutes, and none of the aroma escapes. 

But notwithstanding all the rules that can be given, four things 
should be remembered: 

1. Select the best berries. 

2. Roast with the greatest care. 

3. Have the coffee-pot perfectly clean and dry. 

4. Do not let the coffee boil, but steep as directed ; and, with or 
■without filterers or any new invention, we will insure a perfect cup 
of coffee. 



TEA. 19J 



TEA. 



As near as we can ascertain, tea was known and used in China 
as a beverage as early as 600 a. d., and in Japan somewhere in 
the early part of the ninth century. It is not supposed to have 
been known at all to the Greeks or Romans, and to our ancestors 
not earlier than the seventeenth century; although the Portuguese 
opened a regular tea-trade with China in 1577, and the Dutch soon 
followed — thus introducing tea into Europe. 

An English author writes, September 25th, 16G0: "I did send 
for a cup of tea — a China drink, of which I had never drank be- 
fore." In 1667 he writes: " Home, and there find my wife making 
of tea — a drink which the Potticary recommends as being good for 
her cold." 

In 1664 we find it recorded that the English East India Company 
sent a present of ten pounds of tea to the queen, and it was re- 
ceived as a gift of great value. After that it came into use among 
the English nobility, but only on great occasions; for the price was 
too great for general use, ])eing from ^30 to $50 per pound. The 
middle and lower classes solaced themselves with a decoction made 
from various kinds of herbs, particularly sage-lcavcs, which were 
esteemed as being very healthful as well as medicinal. For many 
years dried sage-leaves were shipped to China and exchanged for 
tea-leaves. 

It was not until 1823 that specimens of the leaves of a tree found 
growing wild in Upper Assam, were sent to the English East India 
Company for botanical inspection. Although the samples sent 
were imperfect, they were pronounced tea-leaves; and in 1835 some 
perfect leaves and flowers were again sent. A second examination 
convinced the inspectors that they were, indeed, samples of the 
genuine article. 

A company was immediately formed to bring the Assam tea 
under proper cultivation. But, like most new enterprises, at the 
first trial mismanagement and ignorance stopped proceedings, and 
caused a temporary failure, and the tea-merchants refused to buy 



192 TEA. 

this new tea. But repeated trials — a more perfect mode of curing 
the leaves — at last compelled success, and the Assam tea brought 
higher prices than the Chinese. Before success had thus crowned 
their efforts, however, mauy tons of tea-seed were brought to Assam 
from China, which, after the real merits of the native tea had 
been fully known, was a source of much regret. The producers 
and brokers found the true Assam-tree gave them a better quality, 
and was more readily cultivated than that of Chiua, and was a 
much more abundant bearer, and crossing the China with the Assam 
tea-tree was not at all satisfactory. The teas of China would have 
been much earlier brought into general use had not the Chinese 
government interdicted traffic in it. That injunction, however, had 
been partially removed, and their teas had found an entrance into 
many countries lortg before the wild trees of Assam had been 
recognized. 

In its wild state, though sometimes found growing bushy, it gen- 
erally ranks among the trees of the forests, growing fifteen and 
twenty feet high. As soon as its pleasant and useful qualities 
were discovered, and it was brought under careful cultivation, it 
was not allowed to grow so tall, but was cut back when quite 
young ; seldom permitted to grow over six feet, more often as low 
as three or four. By thus dwarfing the trees the leaves are far 
more delicate, and are much more easily gathered. The leaf is 
shaped like the myrtle. The blossom is white, somewdiat like the 
wild rose, but smaller and very fragrant. The pod holds two or 
three white seeds. They are often ground to extract the oil, which- 
is greatly prized. 

Many claim that all the varieties of tea are found on the same 
tree, and the only difference in them arises from climate, the pe- 
culiar situation and exposure of the land, the age when the leaves 
are picked, and the different mode of curing each grade of leaves. 
Others think there are quite a number of varieties, as among other 
herbs, grains and fruit. 

John Francis Davis, in his work on " China and its Inhabitants,'* 
says: "Specimens brought from the black and green tea countries 
differ slightly in the leaf — the green tea being a thinner leaf, rather 
lighter in color and longer in shape than the black tea." But "the 



TEA-CULTURE. 193 

Chinese themselves acknowledge that eitlier black or green tea 
can be prepared from any tea -plant. The green being less heated 
than the black in curing, retains more of the original color and pe- 
culiar qualities of tlie leaf, but is more liable to suffer from time 
and dampness. Examine both kinds after having been expanded 
in hot water, and it will be observed that the black has more of the 
stem of the leaf, and often some of the stalk on which it grew, 
while the green has been pinched off' above the leaf-stem. The 
black, therefore, contains more of the woody fiber, while the green 
has only the fleshy part of the leaf itself — a good reason why it 
should be dearer." Again he says : 

"Keang-nan, between the 30th and 31st parallels of north lati- 
tude, is the green-tea country, and Fokien, between 27° and 28° 
latitude, on the south-east, on a range of hills dividing that province 
from Keang-si, is the black-tea country." 

"The Bohea is the coarsest, and, therefore, the poorest tea, and 
is found in Woping, one of the districts of Canton." 

There are other authorities who claim that there are varieties 
both in the black and in the green tea-trees themselves, which 
difference is not the result of different processes in curing, and more 
varieties in the black than in the green tea-trees ; but we are in- 
clined to the opinion that the soil, the age of the leaf, and the 
manipulation of the leaf when gathered, will account for the 
peculiar characteristics of each quality. 



TEA-CULTURE. 



In China the tea-plant blooms in November, and the seed ripens- 
the next autumn. The seeds, when gathered, are kept in sand until 
the next spring, when they are sown in seed-beds or in the rows. 
where the plants are to grow, in which case they are planted 
about five feet apart each way. When about eighteen inches ini 
height, the leading sprouts are pinched off", to make the plant grow 
bushy. They are seldom allowed to grow over five feet high, and! 



194 TEA-CULTURE. 

three feet is thought to be the most profitable — producing the most 
delicately flavored leaves. When three years old the shrubs begin 
to yield, though but a small quantity. From that age they will 
bear more and more plentifully, and continue in good condition and 
flavor till the eighth or sometimes the tenth year, when they decline 
in quantity and flavor, and are rooted out to make room for new 
plants, or are cut down, leaving the stumps, around which spring 
up the young shoots which are at once brought under care and cul- 
tivation. The "shrub thrives well and yields abundantly, when 
planted on the mountain or hill-sides; for the vegetable matter, 
washed down from those elevations, gives the plants the fertiliza- 
tion most needed, and especially when it is combined with the dis- 
integrated limestone or granite which is commonly found in those 
elevations. The northern parts of China are too cold, and the 
extreme southern parts are too warm, for successful tea-culture. 
Much, therefore, depends on the location, character of the soil, and 
climate. 

The younger the leaf or bud, the more delicate the flavor; and, 
of course, from these very small leaves there can not be a large 
quantity gathered at one picking. The picker has a bag or basket 
slung over his shoulders, into which he throws the different grades, 
picking leaf by leaf with great care, so as to mix the qualities or 
ages as little as possible. To leave his hands free, the bag falls over 
his back. By hard work an expert picker can pick fifty pounds of 
leaves a day ; but twenty pounds is considered a good day's work. 
Four pounds of the freshly-gathered leaves will make one pound of 
tea when they are cured. In picking, the shoot or small branch 
is held forward by one hand, and the blade, or parts of the leaf 
each side of the stem, broken off* with the other hand and thrown 
into the proper place in the basket or bag. No part of the stem is 
gathered with the leaf for the best teas ; not even the slender stem 
running through the middle of the leaf; the immaturity and ten- 
derness of the leaf being the guarantee of the first quality. 

In the green-tea district the shrub is never allowed to grow very 
old, but is renewed earlier than the black tea. The finest black 
tea, like the best green, is made from the young buds before they 
open into leaflets. These delicate teas are very expensive, and 



TEA-CULTURE. 195 

will not bear transportation. The black teas of this quality are 
called Pekoe, or Pak-ho ("white down," or "white leaf-bud"), be- 
cause the early leaf-bud is covered with a white, silky down. It is 
also cidled Flowery Pekoe. The next best, or second grade, of a 
few days' longer growth, when the silky hairs begin to fall off, is 
the Oiange, or "black-leafed," Pekoe; the third and still more 
mature leaf is the Souchong, "i^mall and scarce sort;" but the leaf 
for this, though fully expanded, is taken from the youngest shoots 
of the tree, which are generally fresher and finer than on the older 
branches or shoots. The fourth picking, as the leaves grow larger 
and coarser, makes the Congou, or Koong-foo ("labor," or "made 
with care ") ; and the fifth and last is the Bohea. 

The green teas are also divided into five sorts or classes, 
namely : 

1. Hyson Pekoe, or Loong-toing ("before the rains"), which is 
made from the very earliest buds, and, like the Flowery Pekoe, is 
too delicate for transportation. 

2. Gunpowder, or " pearl tea." This is the best quality imported, 
and is so named from the sniallness and roundness of the grain. It 
is even more carefully picked than the third quality— Hyson — but, 
like that, every separate leaf is twisted and rolled by hand ; and it 
is on account of the extreme care and great labor necessary to the 
proper curing of this variety that both Gunpowder tea and Hyson 
are so difficult to obtain pure, and are so expensive. 

3. Hyson — not quite as carefully selected and handled as Gun- 
powder. There is really no appreciable difference, the Gunpowder 
being selected from the Hyson, choosing the roundest and best- 
rolled leaves, and hence its granular appearance, which gives it a 
distinctive name from the Hyson. 

4. Hyson-skin is the inferior leaves of the Hyson, separated while 
curing them. In preparing the Hj'son, all the coarser leaves — 
those of a yellowish color or not so closely twisted or rolled — are 
set apart as refuse or Hyson-skin, or, as the Chinese call it, "skin- 
tea," and sold for much less, 

5. Twankey is the poorest of all the green teas, holding the same 
relation to them that Bohea does to the black teas. It is little 
used, except by those unable to procure a finer quality, and of lata 



196 TEA-CULTURE. 

years little of this quality is imported. It is grown in a different 
district from that which produces the Hysous. 

The tea-merchant, buying green tea from the farmer, passes it 
through successive sieves till the leaves, being thus separated into 
the varieties mentioned, are ready to be fired. They are put into 
an iron pan and subjected to a great degree of heat, which gives 
them a light twist and brings them up to their color. The tea which 
passed the first sieve is now put into a winnowing machine, and the 
fan blows the smallest leaves to the furthest end; but the larger, 
broken leaves remain at a shorter distance. The best teas, as the 
Gunpowder or Hyson, are heavier or lighter as they have more or 
less sap or juice, and they keep nearer or are blown farther off 
according to their respective gravity, and are thus separated by this 
winnowing machine. 

When this process is finished, the young leaf which takes the long- 
est twist through the heat will be the young Hyson ; but that which 
takes the round twist will be Gunpowder. The same process is car- 
ried out to separate the Hyson from the Twankey. 

Another mode of preparing the leaves after they are bought from 
the farmer, is to begin the drying process in the sunshine. The 
leaves are then taken to the firing-house, where are large flat-iron 
pans over charcoal stoves. After these are heated to a certain de- 
gree, about three-quarters of a pound of leaves are placed on each 
pan and stirred briskly wnth a peculiar kind of brush. As fast as 
the leaves are sufficiently curled, they are swept into baskets and 
rubbed between the hands to make them curl still closer. They are 
then again placed in the pans over the stove. This process is con- 
tinued until they are ready to be packed in chests and sold. There 
is no truth, we think, in the statement that green tea gets its color 
from being dried on copper plates, though, it is probable that in 
heating green tea, the drying and curling are accomplished as rap- 
idly as possible, before the color can change very much, while the 
process is greatly prolonged in curling black tea, and repeated 
"with long periods of exposure to the air, sometimes even for a whole 
night, so that a kind of fermentation takes place before the "firing" 
is completed. 

After the teas are dried, the choicest kinds are spread out on a 



TEA-CULTURE. 197 

table, and assorted before packing. The chests in which the tea is 
to be packed, well lined with tin foil, are now brought to be filled. 
One bare-footed laborer steps into the chest — refreshing and appe- 
tizing thought! — while another pours in the tea-leaves, which the 
first treads down firmly, and when the chest is full the lid is soldered 
down. 

Many attempts have been made to cultivate tea in this and other 
countries, but the expense of labor and the extreme care needed 
to collect and separate the various kinds are great difficulties in the 
way. If Yankee ingenuity can contrive machinery, or some safe 
mode for gathering and curing tea with less expense, there is no 
reason why we should not be able not only to supply our own coun- 
try with tea, but, as with beef, cheese, etc., reverse the usual mode 
and supply other countries. It is generally understood that much 
of the labor and careful manipulation of tea are necessary solely to 
prepare it for the ocean voyage. It is impossible to import the 
very best teas and secure that richness and delicacy of flavor so 
much esteemed in China. The time may, and probably will, come 
when our Southern States shall furnish us the best teas, uninjured 
by the severe treatment of firing and drying, but pressed into solid 
cakes of dried leaves, as is done now with other herbs. In this case 
the tea will only need the roasting to develop the flavor, as in cof- 
fee, and, being used as soon as "fired" or roasted, we shall secure 
the choicest tea. And if, after roasting our tea, we also grind the 
leaves or rub them to powder before pouring on the boiling water, 
we shall have achieved the highest success in tea-making. 

The Tartar tribes from the borders of Russia to the Eastern 
Ocean, to make their tea more portable and to preserve it, moisten 
the leaves with some slightly glutinous fluid, and then press them 
into molds in the form of bricks. When needed, they scrape oflf a 
portion of the brick, and boil it with butter, flour, milk and salt. 
Some travelers who have tasted it, say it is far from unpleasant. The 
Tartars also use it in the usual way for a drink. 



198 HOME SAINTS OB PABLOB OBNAMENTS. 



HOME SAINTS OR PARLOR ORNAMENTS. 

" The young lady who rises early, and in a neat, simple morning- 
dress goes to the kitchen to assist in getting breakfast — or gets it 
herself, if need be — and afterward cheerfully and smilingly puts 
the house in order, without leaving her mother to do every thing, 
is worth a dozen parlor beauties who sit languidly on sofa or easy- 
chairs, fanning, fanning; or for a few moments drum on the piano, 
then take up a book — find no interest in it — and, for want of really 
healthy exercise, half die from sheer indolence." 

The former will make a good wife and mother. Her home will 
be a paradise where husband and children will find rest and amuse- 
ment, far more satisfactory than can be found in parties or genteel 
dissipations ; while they hourly call her blessed, who has made home 
the sweetest spot on earth. But the latter — how sad the thought! — 
can be but a pretty, useless piece of furniture. In that which she 
thinks genteel to do — and she will by no means stoop to do any 
thing that is not — can she find real peace and true enjoyment. 
Restless, dissatisfied and fretful all the morning, the hour for re- 
ceiving calls arrives, she finds a kind of pleasure in dressing for 
the occasion, or anticipating the frivolous entertainment she looks 
forward to. Yet how often these anticipations prove a failure! 
How often among these callers, over whom she wastes many hours, 
there will be one marplot, so uncongenial to herself and those of 
other friends who may call, that the morning's expected pleasure, 
meager as it may be, fs a source of keen annoyance; perhaps in 
part atoned for after the offensive guest departs, in the low and 
rude satisfaction of turning the unfortunate one into ridicule! 

If this hot-house plant decides to leave the house and make a 
round of senseless calls herself, how much pleasure will she be likely 
to secure? How often a few words of silly gossip rouse an envious 
or jealous spirit in her breast, that will be a source of keen torture 
to her for days ! 

Now, here are two paths, either of Avhich our young girls may 
choose, and on that choice the happiness or misery of their whole 



"DON'T TELL MOTHER." 199 

lives may depend. Here comes in the most solemn part of the 
mothlpr's duties; for, in the influence her example or teaching may 
have in determining that choice, the mother must be held responsi- 
ble. It will rest almost wholly with her whether these young girls, 
just looking toward womanhood, shall learn to seek their sweetest 
pleasures at home, in useful employment and the refined com- 
panionship sensible parents will seek to bring about them, or learn 
to seek amusement in fashionable society and dissipation, anywhere 
— anyhow — but at home ! 

With the first class of parents we look to see our young girls de- 
velop into genuine home saints; with the second class, how can we 
expect any thing but girls who spend their young maidenhood in 
seeking those pleasures that perish in the using, and fill their hearts 
with discontent and bitterness, and, after marriage, scorn the idea of 
being housekeepers; preferring to seek the only homes they will 
ever knoAV in fashionable boarding-houses, or in the giddy whirl of 
hotel life? 



"DON'T TELL MOTHER." 

Not long since we passed two little girls, perhaps eight or nine 
years old. Their arms were thrown around each other in a simple, 
loving, unaffected manner that quite enchanted us. But the first 
words we heard them utter dispelled the charm and left a very 
painful impression. 

"I'll tell you something that I am going to do. May, if you will 
promise not to tell mother a word about it." 

If at that early age boys or girls begin to have secrets from their 
parents, especially from the mother, it does not require a prophets 
skill to form a tolerably correct judgment of what the character 
will be, and the results springing from such tendencies, when they 
arrive at mature age. A disposition to deceive is bad enough, but 
when a little child arranges to conceal her actions from her mother, 
the outlook is sad indeed. 



200 "DON'T TELL MOTHER." 

Whatever may be taught or believed about natural depravity, it 
would be very difficult to imagine that a little child natur^!^ in- 
clines to conceal its actions from the mother, who, for the few 
earliest years, at least, must, almost of necessity, be with it more 
than any other one. In such cases it is impossible not to feel that 
the parents must be held, in part, accountable. Over-strictness in 
governing children often proves a temptation to deceive and con- 
ceal. When a child first understands that it is under surveillance, 
and all its acts criticised or censured, it becomes uncomfortable, and 
soon feels frightened, and seeks to escape from the thralldom by 
prevarication or deceit. To deny, conceal, invent or give an excuse 
that to a youthful mind appears plausible, if not unanswerable, 
opens, in their childish judgment, the readiest way of escape from 
blame or punishment. Let any one enter on that way; conceal- 
ment, deceit and excuses become easy. It will not be long before 
this course will be taken, not merely to avoid punishment or re- 
proof, but to secure some pleasure known to have been forbidden. 

Young parents often enter upon their new duties with very high 
ideas. They have theories which, if strictly followed out, will place 
their nonpareil far above all other babies, and bring it into matu- 
rity a bright and shining light, only a little lower than the angels. 
And in its rare development it is expected that the parents' theory 
will be glorified. It is vain for parents, who have had several 
experiences, and many new theories, to try to convince the young 
matrons that there never was a mode of training children that 
would be suitable for all dispositions, or that fully realized the 
bright expectations of those who first tried to bring them into daily 
practice. 

Some begin with the idea that implicit, unquestioning, instanta- 
neous obedience must be insisted on, and any hesitation or devia- 
tion must be met at once by severe punishment. Children brought 
up under such a system are the ones most likely to deceive and con- 
ceal. Those parents who are thoroughly good, and act in the most 
conscientious manner, in their hearts believing that their theory, 
*' though for the present not joyous but grievous," will in the end 
work out the peaceable fruits of righteousness, are .the ones who in 
riper years, taught by that rough schoolmaster, experience, greatly 



''DON'T TELL MOTHER." 201 

modify, if not entirely change, their mode of bringing up their 
younger children. Indeed, finding that strict discipline and rigor- 
ous oversight have not entirely perfected their first children, they 
are in great danger of swinging clear over to the opposite side, and 
do their last children as much, or more, harm by being too lenient 
and indulgent, as their first received by needless severity. 

Poor children ! if parents could only know exactly what spirits 
they had to deal with — if they had wisdom to guide and govern 
through love and gentleness, how much less temptation to deceit 
and concealment — how much more happiness both for parents and 
children ! 

Wholesale license and indulgence do not make the happiest 
child-life, but, with all its evils, we doubt if it is morally as injuri- 
ous as over-governing and severity. But whatever mode of train- 
ing children may be adopted, that is best which is so modified as 
to teach all, particularly the girls, that the mother is the sagest 
and wisest confidante. Children will make mistakes — but no great 
harm will follow, if they have no secrets from their mother; and 
they will not be tempted to hide a blunder if they know she will 
not rebuke sharply, but with loving-kindness. A girl will not do 
any thing very wrong who has no secrets from her mother. Every 
^irl stands on slippery, unsafe ground the moment she thinks or 
says, "Don't tell mother." The fewer secrets girls or boys have, 
the safer they are. If there should be a few which may seem im- 
portant and unavoidable, let the child test the real necessity of en- 
cumbering herself with theiu by taking the mother in partnership. 
No companionship should be tolerated, no letter written, that she 
may not know of. 

Secrets, mysteries — are bad things for any one, boy or girl,, man 
or woman — but much worse for a girl or woman. We wish we 
could show the young how much of unrest, trouble and wrong has 
come through those small mysteries and secrets that many young 
girls take delight in; but we close with this one item of advice for 
children of both sexes : 

Hide nothing from your mother. Do nothing that you would 
be ashamed or unwilling to have your father know. If you have 
done wrong, don't wait for them to learn it from others. Go to 



202 JUDICIOUS ECONOMY. 

them and own it, trusting that their love will enable you to right 
it. If you have made a mistake, look into their eyes with loving 
boldness, and tell them yourself. Prevent others from telling your 
parents tales of you, by taking the whole matter to your best 
friends and advisers, your own self. 



JUDICIOUS ECONOMY. 



A New England matron once wisely remarked: "Economy is a 
gift from God. Don't censure too severely those who, not so richly 
endowed, seem lacking in this trait." In one sense this is correct. 
All of good in ourselves, our friends or our surroundings, comes 
from our Father's hand, with his blessing. Yet there are no God- 
given talents, or traits of character that can not be, in more or less 
degree, enhanced by careful cultivation, and thus incorporated in 
our being, so as to become a noticeable feature in any character 
that values it sufficiently to think and labor for its perfecting. 
Many find it easy to economize in large expenses, but very labori- 
ous and disagreeable if obliged to do so in the smaller items of 
household expenditure. And yet it is in the small things that 
waste becomes most destructive. A very erroneous idea prevails 
with many, that any thought spent over small outlays — sober de- 
liberation over economy in little things — is evidence of low ■ and 
mean traits of character, and betokens miserly habits. We have 
heard it said that to feel one must stop and calculate — examine 
articles with reference to the cost, rather than to be governed by 
our taste — to deliberate upon the sum total before daring to buy — 
would make life unendurable. To stop and examine an old gar- 
ment, and learn if, by any ingenuity, it could be turned, re- 
trimmed, or remodeled so as to answer another season, instead of 
buying something new, would be a torture which would banish 
half the comfort of living. "To pick up pins and needles, care- 
fully sew buttons and strings, and keep before the mind all the 
time the necessity of economy, would make me feel so little, so- 



JUDICIOUS ECONOMY. 203 

mean, I should despise myself. I'd sooner spend freely as long as 
the little I have lasts, and then go to the poor-house, or die, than 
be a slave to economy." 

This is no imaginary talk, but something similar, or worse, is 
often uttered ; and girls who spring up from childhood to maturity, 
inclined to such false notions, are not the kind to make the wives 
in whom the hearts of their husbands can safely trust ; and their 
children will not rise up and call them blessed. Waste and ex- 
travagance go hand in hand; and those who thus seek their own 
gratification and indulgence, bring no comfort to those with whom 
they are most closely connected, because they minister to their own 
selfish desires regardless of the good of others. 

Parents often err, doubtless, by being overstrict in matters of 
economy, and, while trying to enforce its practice, teach their 
children only disgust at the idea. For this reason, perhaps, 
together with some others which are hard to explain, the young 
seem to shun the very idea of economy, of late, and would feel 
that they were outside of the pale of good — or, rather, genteel — 
society if they allowed themselves to speak of it; and to attempt 
to practice it would shut them away from certain acquaintances as 
altogether an inferior class of beings. 

Many who are absolutely compelled to try and economize closely, 
look upon it as an evil to be greatly deplored, and to be attempted 
secretly. For the world they would not have it known how they 
"strive to keep up appearances" by outwardly bringing their sur- 
roundings into some little harmony with their more wealthy neigh- 
bors'. The ingenuity they must practice to do this, and to conceal 
the many deprivations they submit to, rather than forego this out- 
side show, would be worthy of all praise if practiced openly, with- 
out regard to foolish criticisms. 

Those who have the gift to practice a judicious economy, and 
carefully watch to prevent any waste because it is right, not from 
any mean, miserly desire to hoard, and carry the practice into all 
the departments over which they rule, are bhssed with a talent for 
which they may be grateful. This talent, juoiciously used, is 
recognized by all sensible people as most desirable, even by those 



204 J UDICIO US ECONOMY. 

who are placed in circumstances where there is no necessity for 
rigid watchfulness and care. 

But it is not merely as a matter of necessity that we wish to 
urge all good housekeepers to look to this, and see that thrift and 
care in the management of their affairs is not simply a duty which 
their own interest demands should be conscientiously practiced, but, 
if rightly viewed, it is, or may be, a source of great pleasure. The 
frugal use of the means put into their hands may give more true 
pleasure to those who have an abundance, than they can find in 
the usual round of fashionable amusements and dissipation, which 
is too often supposed to be the distinctive mark of good society. 

If one can command the money to make purchases of household 
stores by the large quantities, and recognizes the greater conven- 
ience of so doing, there is no degradation in doing it, because, 
also, in most cases, it is the better economy. But having bought 
by the wholesale, and generously filled their storehouses, they must 
not imagine their work is finished. They are but stewards of God's 
bounties, and a steward may not relax the care laid upon him. 
Many details can be put into the hands of subordinates, but never 
so entirely as to free the head of the household of the responsi- 
bility, and relieve her from careful supervision of all expenditures. 
If the mistress of a house is willing to submit to the rule and 
tyranny of a housekeeper, that is a matter of personal taste with 
which we arc in nowise inclined to meddle ; but no such subordi- 
nate can lift the responsibility from the shoulders of the true head 
of the house. 

One of the great evils of extravagance and lack of economy in 
the mistress of the household is the injury done to her subor- 
dinates. Our servants are quick imitators, and if the mistress is 
easy and careless in her expenditures, she may be sure her maidens 
will follow her example, and make sad Avaste of the materials put 
into their hands. The improvident class, from which our help 
mostly come, soon learn the lessons taught by such example, and 
become careless of the property of the employer, even when they 
have no thought of appropriating any thing to their own use. But 
such lessons, it should be remembered, make our employes, of 
both sexes, totally unfit to manage a home of their own, or save 



PRESENCE OF MIND. 205 

enough, when family cares come upon them, to keep them from 
the poor-house. 

How many of us have seen what wretched, incompetent creatures 
those girls become after marriage, who have lived in wealthy fam- 
ilies, with a great abundance to work with, and no cautions from 
their employer to use it discreetly and with a true economy ! Such 
lessons might have saved them, and prepared them so to care for 
their own small earnings and those of their hard-working husbands, 
as to enable them to build up little comfortable homes for them- 
selves and rear and educate their children with such care that they 
might become among our most influential citizens. But unless 
those wealthy ladies with whom they took their first lessons felt 
the true responsibility of their positions, and the guidance they owe 
to their servants, when the untutored damsels marry, they drift as 
helplessly as a rudderless ship in a storm, and year by year sink 
down into deeper poverty and wretchedness, ending, perhaps, in a 
pauper's grave ; when, had they learned the lessons of true economy 
in their employers' bountifully supplied houses, they might have 
owned neat and comfortable homes, where their children might 
have grown up happy, respectable and useful. 



PRESENCE OF IJIKD. 



Few attain to mature years without recognizing the value of that 
presence of mind which can be depended on for immediate service 
in the hour of need. Yet, while all acknowledge its importance, 
how few are taught from childhood to cultivate and practice it! A 
large proportion of the accidents which astonish us by their 
frequency, and appal us by their frightful results, might have 
been averted if the sufferers, or the lookers-on, had learned in youth 
to exercise this habit. Some, to be sure, are so constitutionally 
sensitive, or through infirm health so nervous, that it may be diffi- 
cult, but seldom impossible, to bring this important acquisition into 



206 PRESENCE OF MIND. 

their daily lives, so perfectly, as to serve them in times of necessity 
or danger. 

It is comparatively easy to guide the young who are well, into 
such self-government as will give them the presence of mind needed 
by every human being. It is a hard task to build up the weak- 
minded and nervous; but in all cases parents — especially mothers — 
are under sacred obligation to labor patiently, and continually, so 
to lead their children that sudden disasters or coming danger will 
not shake them, or prevent the prompt, energetic action that comes 
through the established habit of calm self-government. Parents 
must first learn this lesson thoroughly themselves, so that their 
teachings Avill be indorsed by their daily example. And the in- 
structions should be pre-eminently gentle and loving, appealing 
first to the children's confidence in their mother's truthfulness and 
superior judgment, and then to the child's good common sense, a 
quality of which even very young children have far more than 
some mothers suppose. 

If a child fails in self-control when alarmed, or in case of acci- 
dent, never reprove it, or speak sharply. That will only increase 
the nervousness. But whatever may be the mother's own alarm, 
she must endeavor to speak quietly, calmly and very gently. In 
an emergency, if the mother becomes excited and screams, i)robably 
the children will instantly follow her example, rush about wildly 
and aimlessl}', and, all through want of presence of mind in the 
mother, become so demoralized that any sensible action for precau- 
tion or relief will be well-nigh impossible. 

Suppose a horse takes fright with a lady, and, perhaps, young 
children in the carriage. The animal has become unmanageable, 
past the lady's control. If the mother also loses all self-control, 
the children will far outscream her, and the horse, maddened by 
the noise, increases his speed and bears his shrieking burden to dire 
disaster, if not to almost certain destruction. Through want of 
physical strength the lady may find it impossible to control the 
horse. But what excuse can be offered when strong, able-bodied 
men, who see such a precious load in danger, do not come promptly 
to the rescue, but run at a safe distance behind the fast-receding 
carriage, goading the horse to fiercer efforts by their shouts of " Stop 



PRESENCE OF MIND. ■ 207 

that horse! stop that horse!" instead of quickly but silently put- 
ting themselves beside the horse (never rashly and uselessly running 
in front), where they might possibly gi-asp the rein, or bridle, 
t-oothe the horse with gentle words, and avert a fearful accident by 
exercising that presence of mind which goes hand iu hand with 
true courage? 

Any one ahead of the runaway can easily, by walking slowly 
toward the carriage, without shouting or brandishing a cane, be 
almost instantly so near the horse as to catch the bridle, or reins, 
before he can dash by, while others behind may safely come up, to 
aid in restraining him. 

But this invaluable quality of mind is absolutely necessary in 
cases of fire, if one hopes to escape and help others. There are 
some rules that should be taught every child, from earliest child- 
hood, as thoroughly as the Ten Commandments. We know it is 
very easy to give wise directions, and how easy it appears to act 
upon them when one sits safely at home, and how different it must 
seem if one sees the flames creeping stealthily through the house, 
or, still more fearful, if some person is enveloped in the flames; but 
the more frightful and urgent the danger, the stronger the reasons 
for self-control and presence of mind. 

The loose garments worn by women and children expose them to 
especial danger from fire. If the fire starts at the bottom of the 
dress, the natural upward tendency of the flame soon envelops the 
whole person, unless, by self-control and presence of mind, the neces- 
sary care be taken by the sufferer, or some one near, without a 
moment's hesitation. To obey the first impulse, and open the doors 
and rush out, is sure destruction. The only safety is to fall dov\n 
instantly on the floor and roll over on the fire, snatching a woolen 
shawl or rug, if near, to wrap around the body. . One is compara- 
tively safe by rolling over and over, for the flames will not rise to 
the face, and the lungs and breathing will be less likely to be 
injured. 

Those who may be in the room, or may come in, have their work 
plainly before them. Keep doors and windows closed ; snatch the 
first woolen thing to be found — a table-cover — without thinking of 
the works of art on it. Pull it off"! Who cares where the bric-a-broG 



208 • PRESENCE OF MIND. 

rolls to ? It is a human life in danger. Or, snatch a woolen shawl 
from a chair, a curtain or a rug; any thing but that one human 
form, is valueless. Wrap the sufferer instantly in something woolen — 
the coat from your back, if nothing else offers — and, thus closely 
wrapped, roll her on the floor in the folds. Scores of lives have 
been saved in this way, scores lost for want of such immediate 
action. 

In case the house is on fire, there should be one "captain," if 
possible, who can lead the less self-possessed out of the burning 
building. Every door, window or aperture through which air can 
fiind entrance should be closely shut, except during egress. 

There are always eight or ten inches of pure air close to the floor; 
and if one can not walk erect through the smoke, he should, as soon 
as enveloped in some woolen article, drop on the floor on the hands 
and knees, and crawl out. A silk handkerchief, or piece of flannel 
or woolen stocking, wet and put over the face, will enable one to 
breathe in dense smoke. If hedged in by flame, so that escape up 
or down stairs is cut off, collect all the inmates of the house in a 
a front room, if possible, where there is bedding, keeping every door 
and window closed — for smoke will follow a draught, and fire at 
once follows smoke — tie as many sheets together as will reach the 
ground, fasten the end of the first sheet to some heavy article in 
the room near the window that is nearest the street, and fasten the 
last sheet securely to the waist of the youngest in the room. Thus 
one after another may be saved, the last letting himself or herself — 
for a woman may manage this — dowm the same way. The sheet 
should be taken on the bias from one end to the other, to give 
greater elasticity and greater length, and for ease of fastening. 

One can hardly be placed in any position of danger so terrible, 
as when so far at the mercy of the flames, that one's own courage 
and self-possession appear to be the only mortal help, and noAvhere 
else can one so fully realize the importance of the presence of mind 
which we have been thus drawn to advocate. 



BE JN NO HASTE TO CHANGE. 209 



BE IN NO HASTE TO CHANGE. 

In seeking for their children the highest good, parents endeavor 
to furnish such rules as will best guide them in the various duties 
of life. Such instructions and rules often become so fixed in mem- 
ory, that the child, when separated from these faithful guardians, 
and compelled to resume all the responsibilities that come with 
maturity, will be still, almost without thinking, governed by those 
precepts and lessons — forgetting for a time to reason or judge for 
himself. In the labors and economies of practical life, a careful 
examination, which searches out the reasons for the rules our parents 
furnished, may be wise; for new implements and developments often 
necessitate a change. But the teachings of truly Christian parents 
usually wear well, and will stand the most rigorous investigation,. 
because their foundations are sure, and one may safely cherish andi 
act upon them through life. True wisdom will call for the most 
careful, serious deliberation, before one may venture to discard or- 
modify the religious instructions taught at a Christian mother's 
knee, or interpret the Scriptures through other theories than 
this Heaven-appointed teacher has learned from her well-worn 
Bible. 

In this age of progress, to be sure, with clearer light, more fully- 
developed knowledge and power than the parents could have, the 
children are blessed with larger opportunities for study and mental 
culture, and thus often find much that their parents are ready to 
accept as an improvement on some of the lessons they once endeav- 
ored to inculcate. 

But usually the religious arid moral teachings of a Christian 
mother rest on foundations not easily shaken. Better cling closely 
to that which the child has seen and felt, shining brightly through 
all the daily life of the loving teacher. Certainly this is the safest 
way, until those hidden mysteries, whose interpretation so many are 
diligently searching after, have been rigidly investigated, and what- 
ever light has been developed by such researches has been proved, 
beyond a doubt, to be no ignis fatum, that will shine to bewilder 



210 BE IN NO HASTE TO CHANGE. 

and dazzle, but that safe, unmistakable signal that " shineth brighter 
until the perfect day." 

The religious and moral instruction given in childhood are usually 
of such vital importance that the young must be cautious lest they 
be tempted to turn aside froni the true way, or be led into by and 
forbidden paths, by plausible sophistries. Their weal or woe for 
this world and the next depends upon their finding the right path, 
and walking steadfastly in it. Therefore, the faith and doctrine 
taught in early youth should not be shaken or changed until after 
much prayer and self-examination. 

But in other phases of life, important but not so vital, the moth- 
er's lessons in the duties of home-life and domestic economy will, of 
necessity, be greatly modified, or entirely changed in some respects, 
a6 the children mature and take their places among men and 
women in active life. As customs change, the laws that governed 
well the mother's labors and household management, will be 
enlarged or entirely discarded. When fashion commands, her votaries 
change their ways, often to their own discomfort and the disgust 
of their families. There is room for question as to the real benefit, 
or increased comfort, of many of the innovations that have been 
creeping in the last quarter of a century. We are tempted to try 
and show the absurdity of some of these changes, but those who 
have bent the knee to style are scattered too thickly through city 
life for us to throw stones without impunity. We might hit, and 
that is not safe. 

That fashion and style, gentility and the customs approved of 
by the highest type of society, have greatly increased the manual 
labor of housekeeping, can not be doubted. It would be some alle- 
viation could we believe that these innovations have increased do- 
mestic happiness in the same ratio. But every servant added to a 
family, detracts largely from real home enjoyment and the enjoya- 
ble privacy of domestic life. Yet it is an evil that can not be 
avoided if one shows any deference to the established etiquette of 
society ; for without more help than our mothers found necessary, 
the mistress of modern homes must be overburdened with labor. 

It is a sad truth that the increased tax on time and strength, the 
greatly augmented labor called for by the extra work demanded, if 



BE IN NO HASTE TO CHANGE. 211 

one conforms to the customs that style has sanctioned, is rapidly 
breaking up homes and building up boarding-houses, thus filling our 
cities with feeble, nervous, hysterical women. Too severe labor has 
doubtless broken down many excellent constitutions, but not half 
so many as boarding, instead of keeping house, has done. The 
release from homely household cares does not tend to build up a 
woman's strength or character. The time thus gained is not very 
largely spent in doing good to others, or in study and efforts to 
acquire knowledge, but an incessant round of gayety and self-indulg- 
ence. Parties, balls, theaters, concerts, the superficial culture 
gained by going from one picture-gallery or school of art to another, 
fill up the houfs that once were better employed. Who will dare 
surmise how much of this time is given to gossip, rather than in 
securing, by such a roaming life, any substantial mental or artistic 
culture ? 

But this is not the worst. The hours of the day do not suffice 
to accomplish all this ; but the feeble women who can not endure 
the burden of housekeeping are out on this wearisome dissipation 
till close on to the small hours, when they return home — no, not 
home, but to their boarding-houses — jaded, nervous, out of spirits, 
often out of temper, and hysterical. To gain strength for the next 
day's duties, they can not rise till late in the forenoon. A strong 
cup of coffee must be brought to the bedside, to brace up the flag- 
ging nerves for the great burden of dressing, and a repetition of the 
same follies. 

Does any honest, truth-loving woman believe that our hardest- 
worked housekeepers encounter half so much exhaustive fatigue, 
use up half so much vital force, or half so fatally break down the 
nervous system, as those who, to escape care and labor, have 
exchanged homes, of which they were the queens, for a boarding- 
house ? To think that any will deprive themselves of a woman's 
brightest honoi's, and give up their time for such a life as above 
feebly hinted at, seems impossible. This is departing widely from 
those good, true lessons which good, true mothers and home-makers 
have so wisely taught. Thererefore, we say, "Be in no baste to 
change." 



212 WHICH CAN MAKE THE HAPPIEST HOMEf 



WHICH CAN MAKE THE HAPPIEST HOINIE? 

When a young gentlemen calls for a social evening's chat, and 
is welcomed and politely entertained by a lovely and intei*esting 
young lady, why should he not find great enjoyment in such 
society? Tastefully but simply dressed, graceful and easy in her 
manners, even if her conversation does not evince the highest type 
of intellectual culture, so that it is not loud, boisterous and hoy- 
denish, but modest and winning — a lady with such attractions can 
not fail to make an evening pass delightfully, and afford a large 
amount of pleasure to all who come into her presence. If, added 
to all this, the damsel shows indications of something more sub- 
stantial than the common routine of fashionable society gossip, it 
will not be surprising if the young gentleman, after enjoying a few 
such pleasant evenings, should gradually find the charm of her 
society awakening deeper feelings than friendship alone can bring, 
and is rapidly drawn to make earnest efforts to secure her for his 
life's companion, believing Heaven can send him no richer boon^ 
should he be enabled successfully to woo and win her. 

But how much heartache and trouble have such marriages occa- 
sioned! How difficult for young people to use judgment in a 
matter involving so much of the comfort and happiness of a life- 
time ! How seldom do they attempt to examine soberly, and fully 
understand all that is needed to insure true, abiding love and con- 
tinued happiness! 

The lady, without a thought of deceiving, in perfect innocence,, 
entertains her visitor so charmingly, and shines upon the moth that 
hovers closer and closer around this bewildering radiance, that his^ 
reason is held in abeyance, and sentiment and the enchantments 
of the hour become the dominant power, until the youthful votary 
is made a willing captive before the judgment that should have 
been his guard has been consulted, or had any chance to warn 
him. Has he for one instance stopped to reflect, and ask if there 
is not something more than beauty, grace, amiability and the gift 
of sprightly, entertaining conversation needed to carry two persons^ 



ANCIENT BILLS OF FARE. 213 

closely knit together by the marriage tie, safely through all the 
vicissitudes and unavoidable sorrows of life? 

If, however, instead of these allurements as the most prominent 
characteristics, a young lady, equal in social position, and perhaps 
far superior in culture and true refinement, rising early, is found 
perhaps in the kitchen, with sleeves neatly folded back, deftly pre- 
paring the breakfast, assisting to do so, or directing and superin- 
tending its preparation by another — if thus seen by a young gen- 
tlemen, in one sense she might be attractive to him through the 
fact of her self-evident natural gifts, and would be respectfully recog- 
nized, but with no shade of warmer feeling. If from the breakfast 
preparations, day after day, he sees her, with sunny smiles and 
unaffected cheerfulness, sharing her mother's labors in keeping the 
house neat and in order, or relieving her altogether of care, would 
it be possible for a man not to distinguish the true gold from the 
tinsel? He might not "fall in love" hastily; but could he resist 
being drawn, step by step, to feel that such a spirit presiding over 
a home, could not fail to make it more like a paradise than the 
parlor beauty who, with many good natural gifs, lacked the one 
thing indispensable to insure peace and happiness, the ability to 
add to social gifts and graces, the knowledge of so ordering home 
and household affairs, or doing them herself, if need be, as to pro- 
mote the comfort and prosperity of all that should come in time 
under her supervision or control? 



ANCIENT BILLS OF FARE. 

We have been somewhat amused at a request from a "Young 
Friend" — which we give in full — but, remembering how much 
fancy and imagination affect the judgment and reason, even when 
forming opinions on every day's occurrences or history, we are less 
inclined to think the question singular or pass it by unanswered: 

"I have read so much of the wonderful feasts and banquets of 
ancient times, the almost fabulous entertainments of the emperors 



214 ANCIENT BILLS OF FARE. 

and nobles of Greece and Rome, that I am very curious to learn 
something more definite about them. To be sure, most that I have 
read on this subject has been clothed with the gorgeous descriptions 
of romance, but there must have been some foundation of truth 
in them. And in these days of 'progress' and 'modern improve- 
ments,' when people of great wealth give their elegant dinners and 
festivals, I can't but marvel that all knowledge of the wonderful 
preparations and cooking by which the ancient magnificence was 
consummated should have so completely died out. 

"Do tell me, dear Mrs. Beecher, if you can, how the dishes, 
which must have cost a small fortune, were prepared? How could 
they, when the descriptions sound so elaborate, keep up their enter- 
tainments for days? 

"I am young, expecting soon to commence housekeeping, am 
fond of trying new things, and shall be able to afford a little ex- 
travagance. I should so enjoy surprising my husband by a dainty 
entertainment, now and then, entirely different from the common 
run of things." 

You would indeed surprise your husband and guests with some- 
thing entirely different, quite out of the common run of things, 
if we could give you such receipts, and you should be able to bring 
the preparation to a successful termination. The daintiness of the 
entertainment, however, would, we fear, be somewhat questionable. 
It would be difficult to give the process of preparing or cooking all 
that in those remote times constituted a feast. Few, if any, of their 
receipts have been recorded. We know none that one could follow 
successfully. Their banquets were lavish, overwhemingly so, in the 
amount provided, but gross and almost beastly in the composition ; 
and although served in barbaric splendor, on glittering gold set 
round with precious stones, there was no delicacy or refinement 
either in the modes of preparing and arranging the food or in those 
wild and lawless beings who partook of the least. 

The women of ancient times, no doubt, prepared the bread and 
dainties; but the men — often nobles — slaughtered the animals, 
turned the spits in roasting, or prepared such savory messes as 
Jacob was supposed to have set before his father. For many, many 
years the modes and implements used to prepare their banquets 



ANCIENT BILLS OF FARE. 215 

■were of the rudest kind. Meats cooked before the fire in some un- 
skillfully formed dish, or seethed in the pot, bread baked in the 
ashes, were so rudely thrown together that no rules or receipts were 
needed. The real primitive way of giving a feast depended on the 
immense quantity, not the variety or delicacy, of viands set before 
the guests. 

After many years the Egyptians began to reach out and search 
after some new way to diversify and enlarge their bill of fare. And 
their first eflTort was in attempting to invent more ways of prepar- 
ing their meal and flour — some mode of lightening the dough. The 
Romans next followed, and endeavored to improve upon it. They 
mixed millet with sweet wine, leaving it months or a year to fer- 
ment. Improving on that form of yeast, as they thought, the filthy 
scum from their beers was used, with all the impurities, to lighten 
their bread. 

Ere long both Greeks and Romans took other forward steps, and 
attempted many and unheard-of ways of cooking meats, in order to 
secure some new gratification for the palate. In their mad long- 
ings for some new pleasure — something to lure them on to greater 
feats of gormandizing — they trampled on every law of nature, mod- 
eration, decency and common sense, until there were no bounds to 
their excesses and extravagance. The Romans, both rulers and 
nobles, were coarser in their indulgence than the Greeks. Their 
emperors gorged themselves with food and wines till they could not 
stir ; but " a slave was ready with a feather to tickle the palate, and 
relieve them of their surfeit," only that they might begin again, 
eating at all hours, day and night, and ruining their courtiers by 
the extravagant entertainments they dared not refuse. No banquet, 
that was thought fit for the emperor, could be prepared for less than 
400,000 sesterces, or $16,000. This was considered a moderate 
price to pay for the honor, the least they dared to ofier. 

Nothing was prized after awhile in these mad orgies that was not 
obtained at great expense, even when the material was far less 
delicate and palatable than many cheaper kinds easy of access. The 
flesh of peacocks is hard, juiceless, and not of pleasant flavor, but 
it could only be obtained at forty dollars a pound, and therefore 
was preferred to more delicate poultry. But theire were too many 



-216 UNEQUALLY YOKED. 

who could afford that luxury, and so the emperor must be regaled 
with peacocks' brains and singing-birds' tongues at fabulous sums. 
Sucking pigs were fed on dates, geese fattened on figs, and only the 
enlarged livers used. 

Fish that could be obtained at home were worthless, and many 
ships were used only to bring fish from foreign shores. The Roman 
nobles would pay $100 for a single lamprey, or $500 for a mullet 
of six pounds weight, and on some great occasion $1,000 was paid 
for them. If one fish could command such prices, no wonder 
these feasts were the ruin of many nobles, when they dared set be- 
fore the emperor only the liver and gills of these fish ! When they 
began to build reservoirs to breed these fish, and keep some con- 
stantly fattening, it has been stated that some of their slaves were 
thrown into the tanks for food for these fish ! Certain it is that 
veal soaked in human blood was given them. If one of these im- 
perial gourmands waked in the night, and commanded a dish im- 
possible to be obtained on the instant, the cook could only save his 
head by concocting something, often of the most detestable ma- 
terial, and, by strange seasoning, beguile his lord into giving it the 
name of the dish for which he had called. 



UNEQUALLY YOKED. 

Why is it that domestic discord has of late become a prominent 
feature in our daily news? Quarrels, separations, divorces, and 
even murders, are fearfully common; and not all, by any means, 
■confined to the ruder, uneducated and unrefined classes. It must 
be that in entering into the marriage relation there generally has 
been a motive stronger and purer than mere fancy or convenience. 
But, alas ! how often, where none can doubt but that love was the 
ruling cause, trifles light as air spring up and bring discord and 
heart-burnings, where most there should be peace and unalloyed 
happiness ! How often a careless word, a look, a mistake, a trifling 
misunderstanding, a flash of temper, caused, it may be, by concealed 



UNEQUALLY YOKED. 217 

Illness, but repented of as soon as shown, has left a coolness that 
one frank, honest word could have dispelled ! But pride on one 
side, over-sensitiveness and natural timidity with pride, on the other, 
hold back the olive-branch, and leave tlie pain to sink deeper and 
sleeper, and the coolness to stiffen into ice. When that is per- 
mitted, a correct understanding or explanation seems almost past 
hope. When, unfortunately, this state of things is noticed by 
ofhere, whispers and hints help to increase the trouble. Incompat- 
ibility of temper, uncongeniality of disposition, being "unequally 
yoked," etc., are daily heard; and the cloud, not bigger than an in- 
fant's hand, grows darker and broader, and all the worse for the 
•officiousness of friends (?), until it threatens to break the sacred 
tie, and plunge two lives, that should have been as one, into utter 
darkness and irretrievable anguish. Is there no unseen influence 
to watch and guard this holy relation? — no little child gone up to 
the angel, to reach down, and, bringing them together, lead them 
•out froni under this cloud? 

From what slight causes such discord often springs ! and because 
neither is willing, or knows how to yield, or, if ready and longing, 
each shrinks from taking the initiative, fearing to blunder, the right 
moment is lost, and the breach grows wider. How many separa- 
tions or divorces have sprung from causes so slight, that, on looking 
back after the tempest, when all is lost, neither would be able 
distinctly to state how the trouble began! 

In all cases, whatever the cause, it is too delicate for a third 
party to meddle with. With the very best intentions, they, too, 
often add fuel to the flames. If the union was founded in love, any 
little disturbances that sometimes occur, may be quieted by a slighter 
thing than that which caused the mistake. A man's pride restrains 
his tongue; but if a wife is watchful she can readily understand the 
first approach toward reconciliation, even if no word is spoken; a 
smile, a look, a hand-caress is all-powerful. 

•' The tongue is very proud, abominably proud and ugly, and 
often refuses to say what the heart desires and knows should be 
said ; but the fingers can convey an apologetic or a forgiving press- 
ure which will have power to stop ninety-nine quarrels or misun- 
derstandings in a hundred, if the parties truly love each other. A 



218 UyEQUALLY YOKED. 

wife will do wisely if- she accepts such a demonstration from her 
husband as an acknowledgment that he has been mistaken, wrong- 
er unjust — concessions which few men can bring themselves to 
utter — or, if the greatest blame rests with the wife, he will be more 
ready, by a gentle caressing touch, to prepare the way for her 
acknowledgment than by embarrassing her with words." 

It is folly for a woman's pride to bar the way ag-ainst the happy 
termination of all that threatens to lessen conjugal aflection. Her 
sense of duty or right may justify her silence in some cases, but her 
pride never. Is it just, then, to ask a woman to stoop to make the 
first concession, the llrst advances, when, however much she may 
have erred through supposed provocations, she knows the first 
mistake was not made by her? 

When so much is at stake we can not call it stooping, to cru?h 
back into her own heart the pain or the sense of injury, and by- 
gentle words, kind acts, and every honest concession, labor and pmy 
for the return of peace and confidence; hoping, trusting, that br 
this sacrifice on her part the wrong, mistake, misapprehension — call 
it by what name you will — may be dispelled, and sweet peace and 
contidence be fully established. 

Mistakes thus adjusted seldom occur again, if peace and love are 
thus restored without much talk, without long explanations, which 
usually "make that darker which was dark enough before." 

No one doubts but woman is so constituted that she can endure 
hardship, pain and trouble with more patience, and can conceal 
suffering more entirely than man. It is her nature. ^^Iiy, then, 
when a cloud hovers over the two, should she not be the first to try 
and dispel the coming darkness, even if at some pain and discom- 
fort to herself? Her reward will be so great. Ah. if both were 
capable of reading each other's inmost thoughts correctly, how neiur 
akin to heaven married life would be ! 

Strange as it may seem, it is not always th(\*e who are the most 
alike, either in the marriage relations or in close friendships, that 
are the safest or happiest. Often those who are exact counterparts^ 
are happier in the end than exact duplicates : for each may bring 
what is lacking in the other, and thus make the union or friendship 
more symmetrical and perfect. But this dissimilarity requires 



UNEQUALLY YOKED. 219 

careful management at first. Each must learn to read the other 
perfectly, before they come into the true harmony which makes 
love or friendship blessed. This is not always easy; and, till the 
heart lauiruage is thoroughly understood, little jars are likely to 
occur. This is why the first two or three years of friendship or 
marriage will be like a school, where all the rules, the moods and 
tenses, are to be thoroughly studied, and each heart becomes as an 
open book to the other. Woe be to friend or lover, if the lesson is 
not well understood! It is while it is being learned that most dis- 
sensions and troubles spring up, and more wisdom, patience and 
forbearance are necessary. But when ihey once understand how 
to interpret each other, as God meant them to, recognizing and ac- 
cepting the traits most dissimilar as but parts of one harmonious 
whole, then love will adjust and blend the different traits so deftly 
that the whole character will be perfected. 

This, however, can not be accomplished without many backslid- 
ings, when the difierences in characteristic traits are not about 
equally distributed. If one is abrupt and quick, the other easy, 
gentle and loving — one not over-impulsive, slow and phlegmatic — 
and the other enthusiastic, energetic, untiring in daily self-sacrifice, 
with sensibilities strung to the highest key — there must inevitably 
be occasional collisions that will threaten great disaster, because 
their eyes are for the time blinded, their understanding darkened. 
Ah! if some of those "ministering spirits, sent down to minister 
unto those who shall be heirs of salvation," could but watch over 
mortals, dispelling suspicions, explaining mistakes, opening eyes that 
pain and doubt have sealed, illumining understandings clouded by 
misapprehension, revealing the truth and honor and priceless value 
of each heart — half alienated by these mistakes — how many haj^py 
homes, how many precious friendships there would be, to make 
this beautiful earth a blessed dwelling-place! 

How hard to see friendships dissolving, loving hearts estranged, 
and valuable lives wrecked, and yet be powerless to enlighten and 
save! 



220 VEB-IND VLGENCE IS NOT TB UE LOVE. 



OVER-INDULGENCE IS NOT TRUE LOVE. 

Many parents imagine they are model guardians of tlieir little 
ones, because they are willing to give their whole life to the unre- 
strained indulgence of all their whims and fancies. It does not 
take long for even a new-born infant to learn that it is to be the 
chief ruler in the house. To be sure, it will be years before the 
babe can reason about it, but instinct, if nothing stronger, will soon 
teach it that crying is all-powerful. Before one short month passes 
over its head, the nurse, the mother, and all in the house are per- 
fectly drilled to instant and unhesitating obedience. Every one 
understands that there will be no peace unless the little tyrant is 
rocked to sleep, or constantly in the arms when awake. The hired 
nurse rejoices when her time of service expires, and she is free from 
the "little imp's" exactions. That will be the term by which 
she will designate her last charge ; but the mother's love sees only 
a "cherub;" an "angel;" "the sweetest, most perfect blessing in 
this world." 

Truly, a mother's love covers a multitude of sins, and clothes 
her idols with celestial charms. She never feels that she is ruin- 
ing her own health when, for the time, unconscious of fatigue, she 
is gratifying her child's most unreasonable demands. If any one 
ventures to hint that so much indulgence is injurious, and will not 
add to the comfort or happiness of the recipient, how the mother 
resents it! We have heard misguided parents say: 

"I will not have my children restrained while young. They 
shall never be denied any indulgence or pleasure that I can provide 
while in my care. They will have troubles and trials in plenty 
when they have grown up, without knowing any in youth that I 
can ward off." 

This is the way some mothers manifest their love. What a mis- 
taken idea! What will their children be when they pass out from 
their parents' care ? How can they bear life's burdens if they have 
never learned that there are any, until, without warning, they find 
themselves encompassed with them? What power of resistance, 



OVER-INDULQENCE IS NOT TRUE LOVE. 221 

what strength of purpose can they be expected to have, what efforts 
towards a useful life can children thus reared ever make with any 
prospect of success ? 

For the child's own good, to show the true, perfect love, those 
who, from birth, are committed to their parents' guardianship must 
be made to " bear the yoke in their youth," so that, in riper years, 
the yoke may be easy and the burden light, or be found to be a 
pleasure, and no cross at all. 

There is exquisite pleasure in devoting one's self to the baby in 
our arms, "the toddling wee thing" that plays at our side; the 
rosy, curly-headed darling who follows us about the house with 
joyous laughter, or chirping like a bird in its merry play. It is 
hard to refuse their soft pleadings, even when we know they plead 
for that which is not for their real good; This is hard, if one looks 
only for the present enjoyment. Oh, if mothers could bear in mind 
'that they must look beyond babyhood if they w^ould insure their 
children's best good — a happy, noble, honorable maturity ! For 
"so surely as the years drift by, and life is spared, so surely will 
the world, with its stern discipline, take all our tender fledglings 
under its tutelage. With dancing feet and gay laughter, life's 
problems may be solved for some ; or Avith sorrowful heart and 
tearful eyes, may come the elucidation for others. But whether 
the days troop by in gladness, or go leaden-paced in sorrow, the 
riddle must be, in the end, for individual reading. The young 
must for themselves chase empty bubbles, and see them perish in 
the grasping, before they will learn that the alluring is not the 
enduring." 

"All that the parents can do is to stand with ready counsel, seek- 
ing to guide the wandering footsteps in safety past the shoals and 
quicksands, until, happily, this tender watch and care shall see 
them treading the paths of pleasantness and peace. 

"The teachings of childhood are the corner-stones on which to 
build the foundations of character. If these are laid in wisdom 
and faithfulness, we may look to see the superstructure rounded 
and beautified by the lessons of life's experience. But the mother 
who fosters childish vanity, and aids to develop the chrysalis into 
a butterfly of fashion, fails no more signally in fulfilling her trust. 



222 THE CARE OF THE SICK. 

than she who, with tender love but mistaken kindness, guards child- 
hood and youth from every duty and exertion as well as from all 
self-denial and care. Such over-indulgence will surely result in 
dwindled faculties, buried talents and a disfigured character, the 
bane of happiness to its possessor, and a blessing to none. Though 
the inheritor of millions, children spoiled by over-indulgence are 
defrauded of their rights." 

In after years, through great suffering and sorrow, if to such 
cruelly indulged children there should come an awakening, still 
the character is shorn of half the strength it should have had, and 
what is left of life will be passed in the shadow, and burdened with 
daily repining and sorrow for a misspent youth. 

If parents would learn in time, that over-indulgence in childhood 
brings to their children in later life only an inheritance of regret 
and disappointment, how many lives would be made happy and 
cheerful, that now, through over-indulgence, are utterly wrecked 
and useless — ready to turn upon their parents with reproaches 
instead of rising up to call them blessed ! 



THE CARE OF THE SICK. 

That mothers should educate their daughters to understand the 
most important parts of skillful nursing, is an idea we have much 
in our thoughts ; for we see how many suffer needlessly for lack of 
knowledge on the part of those who have charge of the sick. To 
be sure, many have not the comfortable appliances that seem 
almost indispensable in the sick-room. In small, cramped apart- 
ments it is impossible to do quietly, or entirely out of the sick-room, 
much that the invalid ought not to see or hear. 

In such cases, patience, endurance on the part of the sick, and 
skill on the part of the nurse, to keep all preparations as far as 
possible out of sight, is the most that can be done. 

But in comfortable homes, with the sick-room at a distance from 
the kitchen, there is no excuse for many things that are very an- 



THE CARE OF THE SICK. 223 

noying. We liave known nurses to put a sauce-pan over the grate 
in the sick-room to make or warm over what they intended to be 
choice dainties for their patient. But nothing should be ever warmed 
up, much less cooked, in the room of the invalid. The sight or 
smell of the most delicate dish will be wearisome to the exhausted 
nerves, and, when made, will, perhaps, be repulsive to the weak- 
ened stomach. 

Cook a small quantity. Bettor the patient should crave a spoon- 
ful more than revolt at the abundance. Prepare it far away from 
the sick-room, without a word of consultation with any one except 
the physician, and bring it the moment it is done. Don't linger 
till it cools, or grows stale and insipid; and the little that is brought 
should be prepared in the neatest, most attractive manner. Select 
the daintiest china and silver, and, if possible, bring with it a tiny 
vase with one choice rose or flower whose fragrance will not be 
too pungent; spread a pretty, white, glossily smooth napkin over 
the small waiter; have the glass like crystal, and the silver bright 
as a ray from the sun. Any thing to be taken hot, should be as 
hot as possible. Any thing needed cold, should be like ice. 

No high seasoning should be given to an invalid; but what is 
allowed should be of the choicest, and mingled like Eve's repast for 
the angel in Eden. Remember that salt, pepper or sugar can be 
easily added ; but if too much is used it can not be remedied, and the 
food be acceptable. A very small proportion of the sick care for 
sweet things; brotlis and well-seasoned meat, when allowed, fruit 
and acid jellies, are usually more sought after. 

While endeavoring to surprise the patient with something that 
one feels sure will be relished, if the sick turn from it, not yet able 
to relish it, be patient. Do not urge or expostulate. Remove the 
dish, and when out of sight stop and think if you have not taken 
in too large a quantity. If your judgment assents, try something 
else in a very small quantity, and an hour or two after prepare 
the same thing that was before rejected, but only a spoonful or two; 
offer it without comment, and in nine cases out of ten, if really 
daintily prepared and presented, it will be taken with a good relish. 
Of one thing a nurse — or one who has any thing to do with the 
care of an invalid — can not be too cautious. In preparing broths. 



224 THE CARE OF THE SICK. 

beef-teas or soups, let no mote of fat be seen floating on the surface. 
Nothing is so repulsive as those eyes of fat on the top of a cup of 
broth or soup. If well made, few articles continue so long to be 
acceptable as good beef-tea; only be cautious not to give it too con- 
stantly, lest it grow wearisome. 

We have seen but few who make beef-tea in the way we imagine 
best secures the whole of the juices of the meat, without any addi- 
tion of water. We will give a rule that is not troublesome to follow, 
and, once tried, we think will be more generally used. If near a 
butcher, get him to chop a pound of lean beef very iine (if yoa 
prefer, chop it at home), take a thoroughly-cleaned glass or stone 
jar, put the beef thus chopped into it without any Avater. Screw 
down the cover, and set in a kettle of cold water. We have always 
screwed the cover almost as tight as for preserves, or put in a large 
cork quite firmly, and never had one cracked or broken. The water 
should not reach the top of the jar, even when boiling. Some set a 
brick or some other weight on top to keep the jar from tipping over; 
but if broad at the bottom the weight of the meat will prevent that. 
Let it heat very slowly till it comes to a quiet boil. Keep it in that 
state full six hours. That is the best; but, if in haste, it can be made 
quite good in one hoiir. When possible, beef-tea should be made 
the day before using. Set the kettle off the stove, when done, into 
a cool place, and let jar and contents become perfectly cold before 
taking it out. When opened, turn into a bowl, let it stand a short 
time to settle, and see if any particle of fat rises to the top. If so, 
remove with groat care. Squeeze the meat hard, a little at a time, 
through a lemon-squeezer, to secure all the juice. Then salt and 
pepper, if allowed ; heat quickly in a very clean sauce-pan, strain 
through a clean cloth, and give to the patient either very hot, or icy 
cold, as best relished. 

We close now, lest we become tedious. But we have suffered so 
mucii poor nursing, and been at other times so comfortable and 
happy by the best of care, that we greatly desire mothers should 
see the great importance of having their daughters know how to 
take good care of those who are sick and suffering. 



SELF-CONTROL I2i SUDDEN ILLNESS. 225 



PROMPTNESS AND SELF-CONTROL IN SUDDEN 

ILLNESS. 

Sudden attacks of illness no doubt frequently terminate fatally ; 
but it is worthy of notice that such results are comparatively few, 
if the attacks occur when at home, or among those who have the 
ability to keep their heads cool and clear, whatever of pain or 
alarm their hearts may have to contend with. Most cases of sud- 
den, almost instantaneous death, occur when the sufferer is alone, 
unable to summon prompt attendance, or in the streets, in a public 
assembly, or in some similar position, where indications of such an 
event will cause tumult, confusion or uncontrollable excitement. 
On such occasions the spectators are unbounded in their indica- 
tions of real kindness and sympathy, but mostly lack calmness 
and self-control ; or, mistaking the cause of the attack, especially 
if inexperienced in the care of the sick, but zealous to do some- 
thing, they often administer the wrong remedies, and by so doing 
hasten a catastrophe, that, by proper treatment, might have been 
averted. No doubt many are stricken down and die who could 
have been easily saved, if some friend had been near who under- 
stood their liability to acute ailments, and was able to hold himself 
quiet and steady. 

When a person faints, every effort should be made to disperse 
the crowd that will be likely to gather close about the patient. 
One, or at the most two, are all that can act to any good purpose. 
Lay the patient down, secure a large supply of fresh air, bathe the 
face in cold water, or sprinkle the face with a sudden dash, not to 
deluge the patient, but to start circulation quickly by the shock of 
the cold water on the face. Apply cologne, or hartshorn, but not 
in a rash, impetuous manner. Act rapidly, but calmly and quietly, 
with no loud talking, or quick, frightened exclamations. Every 
thing of this kind must be avoided, for the return to consciousness 
in fainting may be instantaneous, or nearly so, and any such excite- 
ment will be injurious, and may cause the patient, if nervous or 
easily alarmed, to relapse into another fainting condition, which 

15 



226 SELF-CONTROL IN SUDDEN ILLNESS. 

will be more difficult to manage than the first. Rub or slap the 
hands quickly, bathe the face freely in cold water, and often dash 
the water sharply over the face from the wet hands. In common 
cases, recovery from fainting fits is not difficult ; but, unless it is 
speedy, send for a physician at once, while the attendants continue 
their efforts actively until he comes. It is safer to summon medi- 
cal aid when there is any delay in recovery, because there may be 
a more serious state of things than is apparent to spectators, which 
a physician could easily detect, and for which he is more compe- 
tent to find a remedy. 

But it is not always safe when a person falls, apparently insen- 
sible, to treat the case as a faint. Many have ti'ouble with the 
heart, which is not necessarily alarming if proper attention is paid 
to the symptoms at once. But the two — fainting and heart-trouble — 
are so entirely unlike that a mistake in treatment, if not fatal, 
is very unsafe, and a source of much additional and needless suffer- 
ing to those afflicted thereby, especially in a crowded room or pub- 
lic assembly. 

For both, the first step, and one of great importance, is to urge 
every one to withdraw from the immediate vicinity, save those in 
active attendance, and have as few of those as possible. This 
is a difficult thing to do. A kind of morbid curiosity, not of 
the base or mean kind, born of intense and kindest pity, but per- 
fectly helpless, induces every one involuntarily to stop and look, or 
press up so closely about the patient as to exclude the air, and the 
little that can be obtained is so contaminated by the breaths of a 
multitude, gathered into a compact wall about the sufferer, that 
there seems no chance for the already oppressed lungs and heart to 
throw off the lethargy. People stand around as if spell-bound, 
and can not be dispersed except some dominant spirit adopts a tone 
of stern command, hard to assume when such thoughtlessness so 
evidently arises from the tenderest sympathy. But it is the only 
safeguard, certainly where the trouble springs from impeded action 
of the heart. 

tn fainting the pulse is imperceptible, the face pallid and rigid as 
the dead, and all power of moving, all sight and hearing are lost. 
But where the heart is the seat of trouble, the face, often for a few 



SELF-CONTROL IN SUDDEN ILLNESS. 227 

moments only, is almost purple, then becomes very pale, but not 
corpse -like, a bluish tint usually underlying the pallor. In all 
cases that have come under our own immediate knowledge, the 
eyes close firmly, as if glued down, the tongue refuses to speak ; 
but the hearing and perfect consciousness are naturally acute, 
although the limbs refuse to perform their duty. The blood rushes 
to the heart faster than the lungs and brain can pump it out, the 
veins on the neck seem about to burst, and the top of the head 
ready to follow. If any one can administer a teaspoonful of raw 
whisky instantly, the attack can, in most cases, be almost instantly 
relieved. 

In all cases of heart disturbance, never attempt to lay the patient 
down. That will fearfully increase the suffering, even if it does 
not speedily end fatally. Never put ammonia, cologne, or any 
thing of the kind to the nose, or sprinkle cold water in the face. 
That renders breathing still more difficult. Never fan a person so 
afflicted. It will stop the little breath remaining. None but those 
■who suffer from some irregularity in the action of the heart can 
realize how much suffering is caused to those thus afflicted, even 
when in their common state of health, and not laboring under a sud- 
den and acute attack, by the irrepressible fanning that is almost 
incessant in crowded halls, or large assemblies. They forget — those 
who keep up ceaseless faiming — that to their near neighbors who 
sit behind them, in front, or on either side, they may be causing 
great discomfort, and perhaps serious evil. Never fan another with- 
out being requested to do so, and do not be unmindful of others' 
comfort when fanning for your own individual gratification. It is 
perfectly easy to secure all the pleasure of fanning, if there is any, 
and the fatigue and exertion besides, without molesting those who 
fail to find comfort in the act. If one fans quietly toward her own 
face — a front motion, not from right to left — she can secure this 
private enjoyment without discomfort to any one. 

The more rapidly the space about one suffering, either, from 
fainting or disturbed action of the heart, can be freed from spec- 
tators, and only those absolutely needed remain, the quicker will 
be the recovery, and the after-effects entirely dispelled or greatly 
modified. Fill the room with fresh, pure air, but let no draft chill 



228 ORGANIZING THE FIRST HOME. 

the patient, or blow directly into the face. If from home, secure a 
carriage, and lift the patient gently into it, and drive home as soon 
as possible. If fainting, the action of the air outside, while being 
carried to the carriage, will usually do all that is needed, except a 
few hours' rest and quiet. 

If the heart has caused the commotion, the recovery may not be 
as rapid, unless a teaspoonful of whisky can be given, in as short a 
time after the attack, as possible. That will usually relieve the 
pain, and make the act of breathing less difficult; but the strength 
will be much weakened for some days. As soon as the patient 
reaches home, while seeking to insure quiet, be sure that all sur- 
roundings are cheerful. By quiet we do not mean that the per- 
son is to be carried to the bed-room, and urged to find quiet by 
undressing and going at once to bed, unless the attack was devel- 
oped late in the evening. Let the easiest and most suitable chair 
be provided, but not a rocker, and the least excitable of the family 
gather around, with cheerful conversation, but without talking of 
the attack. See that the usual family arrangements are carried on 
without any noticeable change, or indications of anxious watchful- 
ness over the invalid. For, however brave and self-controlled one 
may be, even under acute suffering and the after weakness incident 
thereto, anxious looks, a distressing effort to speak low, walk softly, 
constantly pausing to scrutinize the individual, or inquire if any 
thing more can be. done to make him comfortable, is annoying and 
depressing to the last degree. But as soon as remedies used have 
procured relief, let every thing settle into the usual routine a» 
easily and rapidly as possible, without constantly alluding to, or 
speculating on, the recent alarm. 



ORGANIZESTG THE FIRST HOME. 

However carefully our daughters may have been instructed by 
the best of mothers, all through their girlhood, when they marry 
and go to preside over a home where they are to reign supreme. 



ORGANIZING THE FIRST HOME. 229 

they must, of necessity, find some rough places at first, and will nat- 
urally, for a few weeks, be over-anxious until they become familiar 
with their new duties — new, because, for the first time, they feel 
the full responsibility of their strange position. However well 
instructed and eflacient they may have been as daughters, their 
mothers were alway near to run to for advice or direction when 
any thing of importamce was to be done. They had the deciding 
voice. To them the daughters turned, or should have turned, if 
servants were insubordinate, or questions arise involving extra care 
or work, or any important change was to be effected. 

But once removed from the mother's guardianship, the young 
wife finds that she must begin to act alone. She must frame the 
laws that are to govern her new home, and see that they are dis- 
tinctly understood by those who are to be guided by them. It 
rests with the young mistress to assign to each servant her appro- 
priate place aud duties, and thus prepare the way by which her 
work can be done to the best advantage, and most for the comfort 
of the employes and the interest of the employer. It is for her to 
<lecide if her new home is to be one of misrule and disorder, or if 
there shall not only be a place for every thing, and every thing kept 
scrupulously in its place, but that the time for every duty shall be 
methodically and definitely decided upon and carried into active, 
every-day life. 

There are housekeepers that, by their distressing neatness and 
precision, are the torment of their friends, and the terror of all in their 
employ. That is not what we would wish young housekeepers to 
aim at; for all rules that tend to real systematic labor leave a fair 
margin for accidents, casualties, unforeseen interruptions and the 
mistakes of ignorance — not indifference — but at the same time they 
■do not lose sight of well-digested regulations and laws that aim at 
order and methodical labor. 

The young mistress must also remember that with her employes, 
as well as with the children of a family, obedience to the regula- 
tions that are to govern the household must be secured if there is 
to be regularity or eflaciency in the labor to be performed. But 
while aiming to secure a just and proper compliance with her .rea- 
sonable requirements, she should be mild and gentle, while at the 



230 ORGANIZING. THE FIRST HOME. 

eame time strictly firm, giving her orders with the pleasant tones 
and manners of a friend, but the firmness of one in indisputable 
authority. 

In every family, large or small, there is a certain routine that 
must be passed through each day. To secure this, there should be 
no slothful ones in the family. Early rising, prompt attention to 
the duties of the hour, are indispensable; and, in the end, it lightens 
the mistress's cares if she takes the initiative in this matter, and 
teaches her family and domestics early rising and promptness, by 
example, as well as by precept. No drones should be allowed. If 
one slights or neglects her part of household service, some one else 
must take up the deficiency by more than her own share of labor, 
and that is unjust and not to be tolerated — save in case of illness — 
for an hour. 

And with promptness and earnestness in labor, strict economy 
should be carefully blended. Many mistake rapidity for prompt- 
ness; whereas, the first, if not well regulated, tends to waste and 
disorder; the latter, to that kind of work which has been well con- 
sidered and prearranged before ready for action, bearing in mind con- 
stantly what step will be the most effective, just how far the work 
extends within the bounds of strict economy — not parsimony. It 
has been said, "Parsimony has a miser's grip, but economy ties its 
purse-strings with a double-bow knot " — secure and strong, but easily 
untied for correct and just demands. 

But economy takes hold of other things besides the material com- 
forts that are committed to the young housekeeper's charge. Time 
should never be wasted, and early-rising and prompt oversight of 
household affairs will do more to economize time than any thing else 
can ; so much more can be accomplished in the early morning hours 
than in any other part of the day. If in health, one finds plan- 
ning for, or performing any needful work, so much easier after a 
good night's rest. The mind acts more clearly and rapidly, the 
body is more vigorous and elastic, and one is less liable to inter- 
ruptions from outside disturbances and calls. These early hours are 
golden ; and, if their value is rightly understood, they enable the sensi- 
ble housekeeper to find many leisure hours for mental improvement. 



" TOO TIRED FOR ANY THING." 231 

for works of benevolence, and the few friendly calls that are indis- 
pensable, if the social naiure is to be cultivated. 

This is but a faint outline of the first steps toward laying the 
foundations of that which should be a permanently hapj^y home ; 
but these few notes may serve to rouse the mind to the necessity of 
training young girls so that they will see the importance of these 
suggestions, and be ready to adopt them, when called to accept the 
proudest and most responsible position that a woman can hold — the 
mistress of her husband's house, and the queen of a well-organized 
home. 



"TOO TIRED FOR ANY THING." 

How often we hear this expression ! But by which class is it the 
most frequently repeated — the mistress of the family, who faithfully 
provides for her household, and as faithfully superintends every de- 
partment, and, if not actually doing the work with her own hands, 
yet carefully overlooking the whole, so that what she provides will 
not be wasted — or the lady of fashionable life, with a large circle 
of acquaintances, of a class that demands of their associates a con- 
stant round of fashionable excitement and that kind of exhaustive 
dissipation which is necessary to secure any distinction? To return 
all the calls that etiquette demands in such circles must alone draw 
largely upon time and nervous strength. 

That hoHsehold labors and cares are a tax on health and strength,, 
under the present style of living, is undoubtedly true; but how 
much of it is needless — in nowise increasing the comfort or happi- 
ness of the family circle, but in all the departments increasing the 
labor fourfold, simply from a blind, unreasonable adherence to the 
dictates of fashion ! Are those who require three or four servants 
to keep the household machinery in good working order any hap- 
pier than our mothers were? How many turn from an elaborately 
cooked dinner and fashionably served tables with longings for the 
more simple, but most excellent cooking of the olden times ! Then 



232 " TOO TIRED FOR ANY THING." 

one servant was sufficient, and often the mother preferred to do 
all the work without any other help than her young daughters, 
thus teaching her girls the true lessons of domestic economy as 
none but a mother can teach them, and both happy in each other's 
society. 

Was a woman's labor, under such circumstances, more wearing to 
health and strength than the cruel bondage in which those live who 
are worn out in endeavoring to secure from servants the careful, 
efficient work absolutely indispensable to the present style of living, 
even where one does not attempt to pattern after the extreme of 
fashionable living? Take one item alone. Have any of our readers 
tried to estimate the work to be done in simply washing the dishes 
after a well served — not a stylish — dinner ? A few weeks since we 
prepared a dinner for a few guests in the country, with no help but 
a young girl of thirteen or fourteen years. After dinner, feeling 
that it would be too great a tax on our young assistant to "clean 
up " in season for supper, we took charge of the dining-room dishes, 
leaving the kitchen and cooking utensils to the little girl. We had 
the curiosity to count the dishes for six people as we washed, rinsed 
and wiped them, wishing to form some just estimate of the work. 
There were one hundred and sixteen difi'erent articles to be handled 
over, each three times — washing, rinsing and wiping. "What an 
elaborate dinner ! " Not at all. Count the soup-plates and spoons, 
the meat-plates, knives and forks ; a separate saucer and spoon for 
*' succotash," tomatoes and sauce; meat-platters and carvers; vege- 
table dishes, coffee-cups, saucers and spoons, etc. To look on the 
table, there did not seem so many articles; but wash and wipe them 
yourself, and count as you proceed, and after that you will have 
more respect for the work necessary to keep just the dining-room in 
order, and for only one meal. 

With how much more appetite one living in that happy state, 
neither poverty nor too great riches, partook of the plainer and 
more healthful food of the olden days, undisturbed by the confu- 
sion and bustle of many courses, or the constant attendance and 
espionage of a waiter, who gives more attention to the pleasantries 
and freedom of the family circle than to the service a fashionable 
style demands ; whose tongue is ready to retail all that is said or 



" TOO TIRED FOR ANY THING." 233 

■done, aud "with additions strange!" How many dishes of scandal 
that float like a poisonous vapor through the air, would be lost 
without the omnipresent waiter! 

But the over-exertion and slavery of providing for the table is 
but trifling compared with that which is exacted by fashion in 
<lress, amusements and the prescribed amount of "calls" inter- 
changed. Even if the cares of a household are sometimes severe 
and overtax the strength, yet there is a chance for the full and 
healthful exercise of the whole body, and a good amount of it in 
the open air. If the labor of olden times was often burdensome, 
and time and strength taxed severely, it could not be half as inju- 
rious to health or disposition, as bending for hours over the many 
yards of rufiiings and trimmings, that many of the devotees of 
fashion and style can not aflTord to have done for them. We all 
know how injurious constant sewing is, restricting the natural 
action of the lungs and heart, and making the eyes prematurely 
old. Few, comparatively, can afford to spend money to hire a 
seamstress after indulging in the lavish expense of buying mate- 
rials for the elaborate dress which the present harlequin style de- 
mands. 

But we are by no means sure that even the herculean task of 
making the dresses is as injurious to health and happiness as the 
severe strain on nerves, temper and strength which ladies, with the 
most plethoric purses, experience who traverse the cities, roaming 
from store to store, in their intense anxiety to secure the newest 
and most unique styles; and all the time in torture lest, after such 
toil and painstaking, they may have misjudged or been beguiled 

into a false selection. Ah! if Mrs. has been before them, and 

at the next great ball shall appear attired in a more attractive 
dress than they have secured, after all their research, what a de- 
plorable calamity that would be ! In what a depressed and anxious 
state they are carried home in their luxurious carriage, and sink 
exhausted into the elegant easy-chair, "too tired for anything!" 
With this fear ever haunting them, they repeat these tiresome 
shopping expeditions day after day. How uncomfortable they 
make themselves, and how disagreeable they must be to others, ex- 
hausting even the wonderful patience of the weary clerks long be- 



234 " TOO TIRED FOR ANYTHINO." 

fore they have settled the momentous question — they — whom many 
envy, feeling that they have all that the world can offer! 

The material purchased, the poor victim of fashion's caprices 
finds her troubles but just begun. The stylish dress-maker is the 
ruling spirit, and perfectly understands that her patrons have put 
into her hands a power before which the proud, sensitive, and, ta 
others, overbearing victim must bow. The cat plays with the poor, 
trembling mouse for awhile before she gives the final stroke. The 
^ imperious dress-maker tantalizes her victim by seeming doubts and 
hesitation, and then condescends to acknowledge that the materials 
are satisfactory, but fears there is not quite enough. Then she 
keeps her in suspense as to the newest, the very newest style, and 
with trembling, nervous persistency, she begs to know if there i& 
not something just a little more stylish. 

But the style at last settled, another trouble assails her. The 
/Iress-maker, who has the most fashionable customers, fully under- 
stands her position ; and, although she knows it is for her own in- 
terest to have her work done in time, she again keeps the poor, 
weary slave of fashion in suspense, and will not be hurried. When 
at last the dress, over which the owner has spent more time, 
strength and comfort than the iiardest- worked housekeeper is sub- 
jected to, is brought home — look at it! What can be more un-^ 
graceful than a lady dressed in the extreme of fashion, or, indeed, 
with but half its absurdities ! The Hindoo beauty, who, to be the 
belle, "must walk like a drunken goose or young elephant," is no 
more at variance with true grace and beauty than the stylish lady 
of tlie present time, with banged or frowzy hair, dresses pulled' 
back, puffed and banded, stoojiing and tottering on high-heeled 
boots, and with the added incumbrance of a long train with which 
she sweeps through elegant parlors, or, at the slightest beck of 
fashion, drabble through the mud or across dirty sidewalks. I^o- 
wonder we hear them so often exclaim, "I am too tired for any 
thing." 

Why risk health and home happiness for such false lights that 
"shine to bewilder, and dazzle to blind?" Sorrows, from time to 
time, come to us all, when the heart bleeds, and the wound will 
always smart. But the deep scars, that tell where the strain was- 



COOKING BY STEAM. 235 

hardest, tell also of the balm in Gilead, which He who scourges 
never fails to apply. 

But the toil of sorrow and care which we make for ourselves have 
no promise of relief from the comforting hand of the Father. The 
slavery of fa.shion, which so often leads to sin, we can not carry to 
His throne, and pray for relief and a blessing. 

Is there no practical way to break the chains that are becoming 
each year more galling? Let us give more thought and time and 
strength to practical labor of some kind, and less to frivolities, and 
we shall hear less of feebleness and nervous prostration, and our 
women will lift up their heads rejoicing, making better wives and 
mothers, and securing happier homes ; and then very few will be 
ready to acknowledge themselves "too tired for any thing." 



COOKIXG BY STEAM. 



Steam as one of the best friends of the housekeeper, has often 
been set before the public. Every year some new steamer, or im- 
provement on the old, or some new way of preparing food through 
the instrumentality of steam, is brought to light, and, with the 
best of encouragement from resj)on.sible indorsers, seems for awhile 
to gain rapidly in reputation, and then suddenly dies out; or, if 
used by a few housekeepers, little more is heard of it. We have 
tried one experiment after another, and, although finding some im- 
perfection in all, have found sufficient that was most desirable and 
practicable to convince us that there was much of real value in the 
idea; and we are confident, if able to do all the work with our own 
hands, we could reap untold advantage and benefit through its use. 

Does not the secret of the failure of the repeated efforts to make 
cooking by steam accepted by all, lie in just that one thing: that 
the mistress of a family is seldom able to do all the work herself? 
If she has not strength, or does not care to attempt tliac part, at 
least, of the cooking that requires more than ordinary judgment or 



236 COOKING BY STEAM. 

skill, or, what is much too common, is herself quite ignorant of all 
such accomplishments, new modes of work can not be tried with 
any great prospect of success. Most servants, particularly cooks, 
when accustomed to a certain routine in their work, are reluctant 
to change, and often show their reluctance by a kind of contrariness 
which eifectually prevents success in any new ways they may be 
requested to try. If, under these conditions of things in the kitchen, 
the mistress will not, or can not make all such experiments herself, 
she will probably find, unless fully prepared to have the autocrat 
of the kitchen abdicate without "giving notice," that it is easier, 
and often wiser, to let a tolerably good girl move on in the even 
tenor of her way, without attempting any changes except those 
which she is compelled to bring about quietly and imperceptibly. 
This is a hard lesson for an old housekeeper to learn — one which 
she will not learn unless compelled by infirmities, or failing health. 
Then, when she can no longer put her own shoulder to the Avheel, 
these repeated defects will teach her that now patience, as well as 
discretion, is the " better part of valor." 

Count Rumford, knighted by the Elector of Bavaria for great 
military, as well as scientific abilities, was the inventor of the pres. 
ent style of coal fire-places, grates and cooking-ranges, and the first 
who studied the preparation of meat for food in a scientific man- 
ner. The result of his researches was the invention of a "boiler" 
for cooking by steam. This was in the last century. 

Within a few years many attempts have been made to bring be- 
fore the public "steam-boilers" and "steam-cookers," based on 
this first experiment of "Rumford's boiler." Five or six years 
since, Mr. Pierce, now dead, but then of the firm of Pratt & 
Wentworth, of Boston, Mass., perfected another steamer, involv- 
ing the same principles, but with many improvements on the one 
of the last century, which, in compliment to the original inventor, 
he named "The Rumford Boiler." He very kindly presented us 
one of them, and, when in charge of the household department, we 
could not be hired to do without it. 

One of the peculiarities of this excellent steamer is that neither 
steam nor Avater comes in actual contact with the article to be 
cooked. Two inches of boiling water is put into the bottom of the 



COOKING BY STEAM. 237 

boiler. Then a large receiver, with no holes in the bottom, into 
which the meat, fowl, fish or any thing to be cooked is put, is fitted 
on tight over the boiling water, and, with a closely-fitting cover, shut 
oft' from all possibility of being touched by the steam or water. Or, 
if many things are to be cooked, another similar receiver may be 
set on top of the first, acting as cover, and fitting as closely as if 
both were one tall kettle; a third on top of that, if need be, and 
the whole secured from steam or water by a tightly-fitted cover. 
The bottom of each receiver being whole, prevents the contents or 
juice of either coming in contact, as they must do in the perforated 
steamer. 

The whole afl^air is about the size of an ordinary wash-boiler. 
Very little fuel will keep the water boiling when once it has reached 
that point, as it mu!>t do before any thing to be cooked should be 
set over. It being so closely covered, very little water can escape 
by evaporation, and after water once begins to boil, a small fire 
will keep it boiling, and any extra fuel added to make it boil 
violently is just so much wasted, and not in the slightest degree 
hastening the cooking. "It is by the intensity and duration of 
the heat, and not by the rapid boiling and bubbling of the water, 
that the food is cooked." 

Meat cooked in this, or any tight- fitting steamer, without per- 
forated bottoms, retains all the juice, and nearly all the original 
weight, losing only about one ounce to the pound. In the usual 
way of baking or cooking meat, four or five ounces to a pound are 
lost. Steaming, when properly done, cooks every thing all the 
way uniformly, and no article — meat, vegetable, pies, bread, etc., — 
can be scorched. Meats require no basting, but are far more 
tender, juicy and easily digested. Every variety of food may be 
cooking at the same time, the close covered "receivers" preventing 
any mingling of flavors. If an article is left in longer than suffices 
to cook it thoroughly, it is not injured, for, as no water or steam 
reaches it, it will only be kept hot in its own juice, without the 
sodden, repellent look of food left too long in boiling water or a 
perforated steamer. And almost, if not quite as great a recom- 
mendation as the excellent flavor of the food, is the fact that no 
smoke or smell of cooking pervades the house. 



238 COOKING BY STEAM. 

Then, if properly steamed, there is no waste of meats. Even the 
tips of the wings of birds or fowls, which, in baking or boiling, are 
dried up and worthless, are almost like a jelly, and perfectly deli- 
cious; for when not dried past use there is no part of the poultry 
so sweet as the wing. All is tender and juicy. When we steam 
meats, or poultry or game of all kinds, instead of baking them, 
fifteen or twenty minutes before serving they should be taken from 
the steamer, then dredge over a little flour, baste with their own 
juice, and put into the oven not long enough to dry, but to brown 
delicately. This is a great improvement, and takes but a few 
minutes, as they are nearly brown enough while steaming. 

By constant experiments, venturing a little more each time, we 
have found that many things can be dome most satisfactorily, and 
with great comfort and ease, that the inventor never promised, and 
did not know could be done. Bread, cake and pies put into the 
close "receiver" we find much better steamed than baked. When 
done, set them into the ovon just long enough to secure the rich, 
golden, crisp brown. By this method we have no more burnt upper 
or under-crust, and no uncooked sodden bottom crust to the 
pastry. We will give one other item, which we think, and others 
acknowledge, is the crowning glory of our experiments in steaming 
food, and we will trespass no longer : 

It is the fashion to think young broiling chickens a great luxury. 
Yes; but then there is so much waste; so much that is hard and 
burnt, and the little meat secured is usually stringy. We ventured 
on the steamer, and can ask no greater success. Cut the chicken 
open on the back, clean and wash thoroughly, and hang up to 
drain; clean and wash the heart, gizzard and liver, and put them 
in a saucepan with a little boiling water, and set over the stove to 
cook tender before the chickens are ready to broil. When well 
drained, put the chickens into the "receiver; " or, if one has no 
steamer, make one for the occasion by packing the chickens one on 
top of the other (well pressed out to keep in shape), into a close- 
covered tin box, or a deep tin dish that can be covered closely, so 
that neither water nor steam can enter. Set this into a pan of 
boiling water, if you have no steamer, and cover with another pan. 
Let the chickens steam from twenty to twenty-five minutes. 



OIL-STOVES. 239 

according to their size. Remember, being entirely shut off from 
water or steam, they can not be injured if in a little longer than 
is necessary. Have ready, when they are steamed, a good, clear, 
but not scorching fire. Set the gridiron over, butter it, and lay 
on the chickens. Put a platter or pan over them, set a flat-iron or 
some weight on it to restore the shape, watch carefully, and as soon 
as delicately brown on one side turn them. 

When taken out of the steamer, sprinkle over the salt and pepper 
needed. Before the chickens are drained, and put on to steam, the 
giblets will be almost cooked enough. Take them from the water, 
chop very fine, and, while chopping, now and then sift over them 
some flour from the dredge-box, until, when fine, they are like a 
paste; season with pepper and salt, and put back into the water 
they were boiled in ; adding a tablespoonful of butter. 

When the chickens are taken from the steamer to be put on the 
gridiron, there will be found a good quantity of delicious liquor in 
the pan; the pure juice of the chickens, which, if broiled without 
steaming, in the ordinary way, would be all burnt up, scorching 
the chickens, and filling the house with smoke and very disagree- 
able odor. By steaming, this is all saved and utilized. When the 
chickens are put on to broil, pour this liquor into the saucepan with 
the giblets; let them all boil up together. If sufficient flour was 
sifted over while chopping the giblets, the gravy will be a rich, 
thick, brown sauce, very delicious. When the chickens are nicely 
browned, lay them neatly on a platter, put butter over both sides, 
then pour over this excellent gravy. By this mode of cooking, 
every particle of the chicken is easily cut off and fit for use. 
Even the. tips of the wings are like jelly — almost melt in the 
mouth — and very nice. Try it. 



OIL-STOVES. 



Last winter we were presented with a " Monitor Heater and 
Cooking-stove," and for a few of our coldest days rejoiced in the 
warmth of our little sewing-room, in which there was no furnace 



240 OIL-STOVES. 

register. The heater occupied about as much room as a common- 
sized hat-box. But just as we had settled down to a certainty of 
many comfortable and quiet hours in this little room, the insurance 
companies put their veto on its use, as a dangerous machine, which, 
if used, would compel them to cancel our insurance policies. And 
the poor, little inoffensive heater and the cooking-stove, equally 
guiltless of harm, were sent to a friend in the country, where the 
rule of insurance companies does not appear to be so absolute. 

And yet, why should the oil-heater and cooking-stove be con- 
demned by any insurance companies, when they allow the use of 
all kinds of kerosene oil-lamps? There are some non-explosive 
lamps that are safe, but there are far more of the glass hand-lamps 
in use by careless servants and inexperienced children ; and they 
are unmistakably dangerous. The papers are full of accounts of 
fires and loss of life from the use of kerosene lamps; but we have 
yet to hear of any accident or fire through the use of the oil-stoves. 
Yet insurance companies allow such lamps in the houses protected 
by their insurance, but prohibit the use of oil-stoves. The Flor- 
ence and the Monitor oil-stoves are carefully protected from all 
chance of exploding. The oil-tanks or reservoirs on both are so 
placed that they can not become heated, even. One can lay the 
hand on them when the wicks have been blazing half the day, and 
not find them even warm. Neither can the Adams & Westlake 
oil-heater and cooking-stove explode. These stoves are made on 
the principle of the Davies safety-lamp, protected, like the non-ex- 
plosive lamps, by a gauze wirel-ining. A piece of paper or cloth 
may be set on fire, after the stove has been lighted for hours, and 
thrust into the reservoir full of oil, remaining there until it has 
entirely burnt up, and it will do no harm. We are very earnest in 
desiring to have this set right in the eyes of insurance companies, 
because these stoves make work so comparatively light. For two 
or three days in the week during the summer we have found it 
necessary to con^e down to the city, open the house, and prepare 
meals for one, two, three, or half a dozen, as the case may be — 
being housekeeper, cook, waiter and door-tender all in one. If we 
could have been permitted to open our oil-stove, this would have 
been no hardship. But to bring coal from the dark coal-vault,. 



OIL-STOVES. 241 

away under the sidewalk, up-stairs to the kitchen, alone, had, we 
acknowledge, a little scare, and a good deal of labor connected 
•with it. 

Now, we are not particularly fond of cooking for a large com- 
pany during hot weather ; but all the exhaustion and dread of 
such work vanishes when done by one of these cook-stoves ; and we 
wish we might be allewod to open our "Adams & Westlake" in 
our own kitchen, and cook a dinner for the chief authorities of 
those insurance companies by which we are held in subjection in 
this matter. 

While preparing tliis dinner, the gentlemen should sit by and 
watch the operation — see the ease and comfort, and perfect safety 
of the whole process. With only our own two hands we could not 
promise them many courses, or any very elaborate entertainment; 
but we would promise they should be abundantly satisfied with the 
food thus cooked, and leave, with smiling faces, thorough converts, 
to the economy and comfort, the perfect operation and safety of' 
the oil cooking-stoves. 

Last week we had the pleasure of assisting a friend in the country 
to prepare a goodly quantity of food for a special occasion, and 
found great satisfaction in doing the work on one of these stoves. 
Let us give the result: 

The simple little stove was set on a table just high enough to 
work at easily without stooping; the three wicks lighted; water put 
over to boil for steaming some broiling chickens, and the dough for 
six loaves of bread molded and set to rise in the pans. The water 
was boiling in fifteen minutes. The pastry for berry-pies was made 
and set on ice, and lobsters chopped and prepared to fill their shells 
ready to be scolloped. Then, the water boiling, the steamer was 
put over it ; four chickens packed in a deep dish and covered so. 
closely that no water could get to them, and set in the steamer, 
which was then covered tightly. The giblets had been put over 
the stove in a small sauce-pan to boil tender for the gravy, and the 
chickens left to steam twenty minutes. While the steaming was 
going on, the pies were made, the oven, which heats in five minutes, 
put over the unoccupied hole, the pies put in, and in twenty-five 
minutes beautifully baked, and the scolloped lobsters set in the 

16 



242 OIL-STOVES. 

oven to brown, while the chickens were steaming. This done, both 
holes were vacated, the gridiron put over and greased, the chick- 
ens — taken from the steamer and well seasoned — put on to brown 
or broil. During this process the giblets were chopped fine, and 
flour sprinkled over while chopping. When fine, returned to the 
sauce-pan, seasoned, and the pure juice of the chicken — two-thirds 
of a cupful, that without steaming would have gone on to the coals, 
Killing the house with the smoke from burnt grease — Was poured to 
the giblets, and set on a corner of the gridiron to boil up and 
thicken. As soon as the chickens were done the bread was ready 
for the oven. In less than two hours and a half all was done, the 
wicks turned down, extinguished, dishes washed, and the stove set 
away, and no sign of cooking to be found in the kitchen. 

And yet our friend, when all was over and pronounced very good, 
could not refrain from mourning that we had done so much, and 
given so much time and strength to help her out of a tight place. 
Eut we thought it, however, as children say, great fun. She 
was thinking of the Egyptian bondage, the stooping, lifting, roast- 
ing over a fiery coal-stove, instead of standing at a table by an 
>,open window, and enjoying seeing the work go on as if by magic. 

■Gentlemen of insurance companies, please give this matter care- 
ful thought before taking from hard-working women such a comfort 
and assistant as the oil cooking-stove. Or, lest thinking over it 
may not be such an enlightener as practical knowledge, suppose 
you come and make the trial both ways yourselves; cook one dinner 
over a coal-stove and another over an oil cooking-stove? After 
that we shall be sure of your thorough conversion and kind coopera- 
tion. Practice is so much more convincing than theory. We 
should not have been half so earnest on this subject if we had not 
felt the burden of the one stove, and rejoiced in the deliverance 
.and comfort of the other kind. 



THE SAME OLD STORY. 243 



THE SAME OLD STORY. 

From one generation to another the same old story of household 
responsibilities must be repeated to each aspirant to the dignity of 
the mistress of a home. Every duty connected with the various 
departments of domestic economy should be carefully taught to all 
young girls who are blessed with mothers that rightly understand 
the great importance of beginning such lessons early. In this age 
of progress, although the primary lessons may have some similarity 
to the old-time education, yet the character of the teaching has 
undergone great changes. In many respects these changes are very 
much for the better. No one can doubt that. But there are other 
features we would gladly reject, and return to the primitive sim- 
plicity of our mothers' instructions. 

Each year the machinery and labor of domestic economy grows 
more complicated ; the retinue of servants supposed to be indispen- 
sable in managing the needlessly intricate details of household labor 
becomes increasingly large, and the work accomplished by any one 
of them is greatly decreased. One "help" of the older type would 
accomplish more than three of our present class of "domestics." In 
this respect the question is forced upon us, "Does all this elaborate 
arrangement for the performance of home duties, bringing so much 
thought and anxious supervision, together with the ceaseless dis- 
turbances that are inevitably connected with a large band of em- 
ployes — the petty defalcations, the reckless waste always to be 
watched for and suppressed — does this style of living make happier 
homes, better parents, more contented, intelligent, enterprising and 
industrious children?" 

Although many hands may make lighter work both for mistress 
and maids, yet is that altogether desirable when carried to the ex- 
tent now so common? Each additional servant brings upon the 
mistress an increased amount of care and anxious supervision, if she 
would insure the faithful accomplishment of her work. Does the 
entire freedom from the manual labor our old-time housekeepers so 
conscientiously performed prove, in all respects, satisfactory? What 



244 THE SAME OLD STORY. 

labor with the hands is so wearisome and disheartening as the 
mental strain under the responsibilities any faithful housekeeper 
must feel who has in her employ several servants? If she 
avoids this by ignoring the necessity of watchfulness, refusing to 
take up the duties she should feel bound to accept, what ruinous 
extravagance and misrule must follow ! So that their parlors are 
kept genteely, their dress in style, and their table luxurious, some 
housekeepers relax all further supervision, and give little thought 
to the true economy that should govern every department, and are 
utterly oblivious of the reckless waste and pilferings of their sub- 
ordinates. 

We would by no means advocate or desire that the mistress of a 
house, who can avoid it, should be called upon to do the hard work 
that many are compelled to do. New inventions, every thing that 
tends to lessen labor and lighten burdens, are justly hailed as bless- 
ings for all, the rich as well as the poor. Ah ! if we would take these 
blessings as stepping-stones by which we may climb higher in soul- 
knowledge and strength ! The danger is that they make us selfishly 
indulgent; that they enervate, not strengthen, both body and mind,, 
instead of inspiring us to use the time and strength saved by new 
methods and inventions, to help others less favored, to work more 
for the best good of those in ignorance and poverty. 

How ever much abundant wealth and every variety of new methods 
for lightening labor, may relieve ladies from hard work, we believe 
every one would secure firmer health, and be capable of a higher 
enjoyment of the blessings that surround them, if obliged to take 
some of that kind of exercise which manual labor secures ; and a 
thorough housekeeper, who honestly intends that her work shall be 
done faithfully and systematically, with an eye to the comfort and 
happiness of every inmate of the family, will find the necessity for 
some portion of the bodily exercise she needs, and can not have so 
advantageously in any other effort. Does this mean any thing like 
drudgery? Not at all. A party, a shopping, or sight-seeing ex- 
pedition, a ball or the theater, are far more fatiguing and wearing 
to the body and mind than the hour or two of that kind of work 
which every housekeeper should be willing to do — should take 
pleasure in doing. Instead of injuring any one it gives a tone and 



THE SAME OLD STORY. 245 

strength to the body which enables them to enter upon all the 
pleasures that are at their command with greater zest and truer 
enjoyment. Bodily strength thus obtained builds up the mental 
condition, enlarges and strengthens it, so that there will be less 
craving for the continual excitement of a worldly life, and more 
pleasure in pursuits that build up and ennoble the mind and purify 
the heart. 

Many of the good things which our Father has, through human 
instrumentality, provided to lift heavy burdens, and lighten woman's 
work particularly, are misused, perverted from their true design, 
and made to cater to pleasure and vanity, rather than to give 
leisure for mental improvement and benevolent work. 

Take one example : 

With what joy was the sewing-machine welcomed ! What dreams 
of emancipation from weary and injurious labor; of leisure for more 
healthful and* enjoyable pursuits! What is the result? Employ- 
ment is more easily found by an expert in the use of the machine, 
no doubt, and many indigent girls, at starvation prices, secure a 
meager existence because of the sewing-machine. But could they 
not find other employment, no harder, and with as good pay? But, 
granted it has been a benefit to the poor, what has it done for the 
rich? Tempted fashion-makers from one excess to another, because 
their patrons can, through sewing girls, pile on any amount of trim- 
ming of the most absurd and fantastic device with no troul)le and 
less expense to themselves. 

Well, if the rich choose to spend their money in that way, what 
have we to say against it? Nothing, or not very much; only to 
wish that they could find greater pleasure in ministering of their 
abundance to comfort the sick, raise the fallen, and help those 
ready to perish. We might also humbly inquire if wealth is not 
•one of the talents committed to God's stewards, for which he will 
demand a strict account? And is hiding talents in a napkin worse 
than squandering them so lavishly on pleasure or vanity? There 
is no sin, we imagine, in rich materials and becoming attire. It is 
the extravagant expenditure, utterly regardless of good taste — so 
that it is the style, even when it comes not far short of deformingf 
the work of God's hand — that is open to severe criticism; and, 



246 WHICH SHALL GOVERN— HUSBAND OR WIFEf 

more than all, the example and the temptation which is brought 
before those who can not afford such expenditure, even on a small 
scale. Lured on, not strong enough to resist, how many neglect 
home duties and injure their health by sitting at a sewing-machine 
all day, and half the night, that they may appear in garments 
that they have used all their skill to bring somewhat into the sem- 
blance of a stylish dress ! They see that they have failed to per- 
fect the thing they would imitate. But the failure does not bring- 
them to their senses. One extravagant attempt follows another, in 
their insane infatuation, and in many, many cases the extravagance 
of the wealthy has been the cause of breaking up and destroying 
homes which, but for this, would have been models of peace and 
content. 

■*' Destroy not him with thy meat for whom Christ died." 
Neither through food or dress injure those who look to you for 
example. 

" Let not your good be evil spoken of," for love of those vanities 
that perish with the using. 



WHICH SHALL GOVERN— HUSBAND OR WIFE? 

That word "govern" should never be shown in word or act — 
never enter the heart between husband and wife. No woman can 
be as happy as God intended marriage should make her, if her 
husband's love is chiefly manifested in his disposition to govern. 
Few women, however loving and self-sacrificing— if they are en- 
dowed with sound sense and judgment — fully yield up, in the secret 
recesses of their own hearts, all their preconceived ideas and theo- 
ries, judgment or dictation, to their husbands. A man would de- 
spise a woman who did — unless, perhaps, it was his oivn wife. But 
wives may learn to keep silent, and, in their daily intercourse, make 
no attempt to argue or dispute, whatever their convictions may be. 
It may not be a heavy cross to a devoted wife to submit, and allow 
her husband to shape her life, not in accordance with her own 



WHICH SHALL GOVERN— HUSBAND OR WIFE* 247 

natural tendencies, but to suit his own tastes and wishes. No sen- 
sible woman, however, so far loses her own individuality, and be- 
comes so like wax in her husband's hands, that her heart does not 
often whisper to itself, "Does he ever remember that I am, 
although his wife, a responsible being — that I, not my husband, at 
the last day, must stand or fall according to what I have, individ- 
ually, done with the talents intrusted to myself alone — and not to 
him? If he endeavors to mold my acts, wishes and aspirations in 
accordance with his own pleasure or judgment, and if on that 
dread day they should not be approved, will he then be willing to 
answer for them, and have me as irresponsible as he wished me to 
be in my daily life?" 

The best and purest elements of a woman's character can never 
be so fully developed and brought into constant, uniform action, as 
by the love, confidence and tenderness of her husband. If he gives 
this from a heart full of manly, loving courtesy, he will find a rich 
reward in such joy and comfort as only a happy woman's thought- 
ful care can bestow, while her heart sings grateful praises to her 
heavenly Father who has made her life so blessed. 

But if the husband expects his will to be the controlling motive 
for his wife's conduct, God be merciful to a house thus governed ! 
This course is not usually called will, but is spoken of as his "right- 
ful authority as head of the house," a better sounding expression ; 
but, nevertheless, those four letters express the same thing, audi 
the wife, in her unspoken thought, will so understand it. She may 
love her husband devotedly, and in her youth and inexperience 
imagine that the sweet attention, the tender courting of the engage- 
ment days, must not be looked for when marriage has united and 
made the twain one. United! One! What a mockery! 

It is just this assumption of rule, of dominant power, that robs 
so many homes of the glory and blessedness that should be only 
one step removed from heaven. If all could fully realize the true 
difference between the service rendered by woman to authority and! 
that poured out unceasingly, spontaneously, for love, what a dif- 
ference would be found in many homes! No duty can be hard, no 
toil oppressive, A wife's whole life is gladly, joyfully given for 
the comfort of him whose every word and act tell her she is 



248 WHICH SHALL GOVERN— HUSBAND OB WIFE? 

precious in his sight ; not useful or valued simply because she is 
convenient — but that she is truly beloved. If the husband, from 
his heart, without condescension, or as a mere act of politeness, 
seeks her opinion or approval, shows that he respects her judg- 
ment, and in just fulfillment of the marriage a^ow, honors and 
cherishes her above all others, what words can reveal all that she 
will be, quietly . and without pretense, to her husband and her 
children? His love thus manifested, will be to her a tower of 
strength, a sti'ong fortress to shield and shelter her, so that all 
trials will have lost their sting. Pain, toil and anxiety will be 
met patiently; for loving attentions and tender words will give un- 
failing strength. He has no faith in that kind of love that is too 
proud to give it expression himself. A woman's heart wants words 
as well as acts, and often repeated, too. * 

"For love will die, if it is not fed; 
And the true heart cries for its daily bread." 

A home governed by such gentle influences, is to a home gov- 
erned by man's authority, as a person is to a machine. One is life; 
the other only mechanism. A wife governed may have bread just 
as light, and a home just as tidy, as one guided — not governed ; 
but the latter will give to her home and her husband a joyousnass, 
a brightness and devotion that the first can not counterfeit. Her 
heart is made so full of happiness that it shines through every act. 
The humblest household duties have for her a richness and pleasure 
inexpressible ; for is it not her offering to him whose care and love 
have made her life so rich and happy? In such homes — and we 
verily believe it rests more with husbands than with wives to build 
them up — the thought of supremacy never intrudes. Marriage in 
such homes is a true union, each mutually helping the other, 
bound together with united love and confidence; the husband's 
manifested by unremitted care and tenderness; the wife's, as is 
woman's nature, by that devoted service which is most happy in 
ministering to the comfort and pleasures of her household. She 
willingly acknowledges him as the head, in so far as deciding any 
matter for the home welfare — where their opinions are not quite in 



BEAR YE ONE ANOTHER'S BURDENS. 249 

unison— aud in all that naturally comes under his especial care and 
supervision. But she yields — not through authority, but love. 



BEAR YE ONE ANOTHER'S BURDENS. 

In most of the relations of life this command may be correctly 
understood, however imperfectly it is practiced. But in the mar- 
riage relation there appear to be conflicting opinions as to the rela- 
tive duties of each of the parties. Doubtless many of the widely 
differing rules laid down for them by self-constituted judges, orig- 
inate with that class who are supposed to imagine themselves the 
best qualified to decide on the duties and management of other peo- 
ple's husbands, wives and children — the unmarried of both sexes. 
Ignoring, or avoiding the marriage relation themselves, they feel at 
liberty to decide for those who have been caught, just what the 
duties incumbent on them should be. This is well enough, because 
it usually is — or should be — quite harmless. 

But among those who are united for better or for worse, no rule 
clearly defining the duties of each can be given. The difference in 
position, employment, and natural traits of character makes this 
impossible. Laboring men — those who are compelled to struggle 
hard for the maintenance of their families — and inen of unrefined 
characters, are inclined to be too exacting as regards the duties which 
they think should be performed by their wives, or the amount of 
attention they are bound to bestow on them. Students, professional 
men, even when not lacking in sensibility and refinement, are often 
neglectful, or exacting, through that absent-mindedness common to 
those engrossed in intellectual pursuits. Some feel that a wife's 
chief thought should be for the comfort of her husband ; others, 
that the husband is bound to shield his wife from all hardships or 
annoyances, and that " a wise woman will look to him to bear her 
burdens for her." 

A woman who marries one who earns his living by the sweat of his 
brow, will not be very likely to accept the position without knowing 



250 BEAR YE ONE ANOTHER'S BURDENS. 

that she must share the toil and hardship, if any, in common with 
him. The danger will be that he may not realize how much more 
heavy, in comparison with the difference of their strength, are the 
burdens that rest on her, than on himself. It is, doubtless, seeing 
such injustice, or thoughtlessness, that leads so many to claim for a. 
wife total exemption from burden-bearing; and women, especially 
among the more influential, refined and wealthy classes, to expect 
their husbands to shield them from every care. We are led to con- 
sider this matter from seeing several things in print which would 
seem to indicate that such is the husband's duty to his wife, and 
that " a wise woman best pleases him when she expects and exacts 
this from him, believing his mind the strongest, his strength the 
greatest, and his shoulders the broadest." 

Meantime, if there is reason in this doctrine, pray what shall a- 
wife do? Sit idle, a useless cumberer of the ground, or be a but- 
terfly of fashion, instead of the helpmeet we have supposed God 
ordained a woman to be ? No one will doubt that she has claims, 
on her husband for courteous treatment, for attention, kindness and 
care, even beyond what gentlemen are bound to give ladies in gen- 
eral. Such attentions are a wife's due, and, as token of affectionate 
care, are inexpressibly gratifying ; but these are not * ' bearing her 
burdens," as some claim her husband should. Take a married 
woman's life from one week's end to the other, whatever burdens 
may fall to her lot in practical life, and, however earnestly her hus- 
band may desire to free her from them, how often can he be by her 
side at just the critical time when she would gladly have his assist- 
ance ? If worth loving and respecting, a husband should have duties 
into which, if he would insure success, he is bound to throw the 
best energies and working force of his nature. How much time has 
he to bear his wife's burdens, and lift from her all responsibilities? 
On the contrary, if, by untiring application to business, he sn])ports 
his family comfortably, perhaps elegantly, should not the wife bear 
her own share of the burdens of life, and, by so doing, strengthen 
and develop her own character, instead of w'ishing to shift them on 
her husband's shoulders, so that she may float lazily, like thistle- 
down through the air — and as uselessly while he bears the burdens^ 
and heat of the day unaided by her ? If she is able and willing to 



BEAR YE ONE ANOTHER'S BURDENS. 251 

go hand in hand with him, doing cheerfully her full share, using 
the strength God gives — knowing that the unused talents rust — and 
by her love and sympathy aiding and strengthening him, why — 
why should he love and respect her less, or think her labor unfemi- 
nine? Why not love, honor and admire her infinitely more for 
such efficiency? 

Many wives, loving and honoring their husbands devotedly, and 
estimating their mental powers through the exaggeration and extrav- 
agance of love, perhaps, in the spirit of self-sacrifice, will assume 
burdens far beyond their strength; but not because they do not 
acknowledge " the broader shoulders, larger courage and greater 
strength " of their liege lords. Is it not rather through an excess of 
honor and reverence, a love that makes all burdens a pleasure, 
that bears the wife up, superior to pains and weakness, or death 
itself, if by devotion they may relieve the honored head of their 
kingdom from any care or responsibility that impedes his mental 
or intellectual eflforts? Why, if conscious of that kind of execu- 
tive force — the head and hand power which is necessary to make 
their home comfortable — should not the wife gladly accept that part 
of the labor — " burdens," if any choose so to call it — which will 
most conduce to the highest welfare of the household ? 

A good husband woukl, doubtless, be well pleased when asked to 
render any service that will be helpful to his wife, and to volunteer it 
at all times if he had no other responsibility or aim in life. But if 
worthy a true woman's devotion, he should find something nobler 
before him than to make his wife a wax doll, compelling the winds 
of heaven to touch her lightly. If he owes no service to the world, 
no allegiance to his Maker, that demands the best use of all his 
faculties to be actively employed for the improvement of mankind, 
he should at least avoid teaching his wife to exact service from him 
which she is adundantly able to perform herself A man whose 
"highest pleasure" is to bear his wife's burdens (we should call 
them duties) is acting selfishly. To secure this highest pleasure he 
is making the woman whom God has given him weak, inefficient and 
childishly selfish ; is dwarfing half of her life, and causing her to 
bury talents, for which she will be called to give a strict account. 
It is not manly, it is not the highest type of love, for any man to 



252 BEAR YE ONE ANOTHER'S BURDENS. 

■do this. It is weak, babyish, wicked, for a wife to allow her hus- 
band to indulge her to her own spoiling. It is cruel for a man to 
exact overwork and hardship from his wife, as .is often the case 
among the laboring classes, and allow her to give her life for his 
service, without even the recompense of appreciation of her efforts; 
but in the wealthy literary and intellectual strata of society the 
error is entirely different, but equally, if not far more injurious. 
Over-indulgence breaks down character, even more than a rigor- 
ous, exacting rule. The latter weakens the body ; the former 
enervates the character and destroys all mental strength. True 
conjugal happiness is found not in taking burdens from one to cum- 
ber the other, but in united efforts. 

In the highest, holiest type of wifely-love, there is always a large 
proportion of mother-love; that kind which finds deeper pleasure in 
watching over, shielding, guarding, warding off trouble from him in 
whom is centered a woman's holiest affection, than in being watched 
over and shielded herself. To spend and be spent for him is her 
chief joy. To watch and nurse is woman's holiest work; not to be 
pampered, petted and kept from care and responsibility until she 
becomes the most useless thing on earth— a helpless baby in a 
woman's form. 

The best of men seldom comprehend or interpret the full value 
of a wife's devotion ; nor do they understand that it is not so much 
being waited upon, looked after, relieved from all responsibility that 
will increase her happiness, as being spoken to tenderly ; appreci- 
ated, honored, loved. Some men rule, govern, control, their wives 
in every movement— and call it love. They feel that she can have 
no individual taste or wishes, but thwart her in all that gives her 
free volition or independent action, and disregard her rights in those 
things that are hardest to give up, and expect her to see that it is 
all for love. When the pressure bears too heavily she may retort, 
be angry, grieve ; but ah ! how much it takes to loosen the tie, to 
lessen her care and watchfulness over his comfort and interest, to 
cool the love, or change it to formal duty or indifference ! For the 
wife to help herself, to be united w^ith her husband, to labor with 
him, each doing respectively that portion of the whole for which 
Ood has respectively fitted them, but always unitedly — this is true 



WINDOW-QARDENING. 253 

union, true marriage, tlie true rendering of the command, *' Bear 
ye one another's burdens, and so fulfill the laAV of Christ." 

It is unwise for man or womaji to attempt to bear burdens that 
are too heavy ; but there are circumstances under which a wife 
frequently seems compelled to do so. If the husband's business 
takes him much from home, or if he is in feeble health and unable 
to bear his own burdens, she will, at any risk to herself, as far as 
lies in her power, assume his cares and her own also, and thus bear 
double burdens. In those cases where a wife's tenderness is blended 
with a mother's brooding love, when children are given, they do not 
eclipse in the slightest degree that care and love that were before 
lavished on the husband ; but they increase the devotion. Should 
sickness or danger threaten both at the same time, there is scarcely 
a limit to the care she will give to each; but let the time come 
when, by superhuman exertion, she can save one, and ovJy one, but 
can no longer divide the care, will she abandon the husband to save 
the child, although the child is part of her own life? No! no! no I 



WINDOW-GARDENING. 

Nothing can give more comfort, with little expense, than a few 
flowers in the window during the cold, often cheerless, days of our 
Northern winters, and they give pleasure to those passing by, as 
well as to the possessor. But every window-gardener wishes some- 
thing prettier to hold the plants than the common flower-pot. A 
little time and skill will sufiice to make even these coarse earthen- 
pots ornamental. Give them a coat of paint — either black, brown, 
green or red, as best pleases the fancy; or, for a variety, paint a 
few of each color. If you have any skill in painting — and many of 
our young girls have enough to draw and paint roughly, a flower, 
bird or vine may be painted over the plain surface — after the first 
coat is hardened ; or, if there is neither time nor skill equal to this, 
landscapes, flowers, birds or animals, or coloi-ed or plain engravings, 
carefully cut out, and neatly pasted on, will have a pleasing eflTect. 



254 1 WINDOW-GARDENING. 

Articles of furniture may be made very pretty in the same way. 
First give the article the foundation color. While that is drying, 
prepare a smooth paste of wheat or rice-flour — the latter is better. 
Be sure and dissolve some gum tragacanth, half an ounce to three 
pints of paste, and stir into the paste. The gum makes the paste 
so adhesive that there is little danger that any thing pasted with 
it will drop off. Select appropriate pictures, and arrange on a 
table in the order in which you wish to put them ; a pretty border 
of delicate vines, or a Grecian border; a landscape, or tree, or 
stork in among bulrushes or tropical leaves, or a deer for the 
center, and some choice flower or autumn leaf in the corners of a 
table, and neat designs in the panels of other furniture, with or 
without borders or corner-pieces. Consult good taste and neatness, 
not garishness, in the selections ; and those not able to buy rich 
furniture, and without skill to paint, may adorn their rooms in an 
attractive manner with very little expense, and, by snatching a 
moment now and then, without waste of time. No painting will 
la»t so long without flaw or defacement as pictures put on with such 
paste, and well varnished with such varnish as furniture-dealers 
use on delicate colors. Up among the hills of good old Massachu- 
setts there is a table, etc., which we prepared "for a play-house" 
more than fifty years ago, in as good condition, as far as the 
pictures are concerned, as it was when first prepared. 

We have heard much of late of the ease with which lovers of the 
beautiful pond-lily can cultivate it, so as to have a lily-garden 
nearer home than the lakes or ponds from which they are usually 
brought. The " American Cultivator" recently gave directions for 
this attractive addition to the flower-garden. 

The roots can be procured in the fall, and kept damp all winter 
in flower-pots, but they can also be got in the spring when the 
garden is made. Then saw a strong barrel in two, making two 
good tubs. Paint them green. Lay some bricks for a stand for 
these tubs, or, better, sink them a little wsiy in the garden where 
they are to remain. Fill them one-third full of a mixture of sand, 
well-rotted manure and garden soil. Set the roots in this mixture, 
adding small quantities of water every day or two, but put in the 
water as gently as possible, so as not to disturb the earth, until the 



THE G VEST-CHAMBER. , 255 

tub is filled. Very soon the pretty, round leaves, four or five 
inches in diameter, shoot up from their bed under the water, cov- 
ering the top of the tub with the delicate green. Water must be 
added to supply the loss from evaporation, and it will not be long 
after the leaves appear before this most lovely of white blossoms 
will rejoice the eye. 

When cold weather approaches again, in the fall, the water must 
be allowed to dry off almost entirely, and the tub, with its contents, 
should be placed in the cellar, being watered at long intervals 
through the winter. After the first year, the second spring, the 
tub is emptied, the roots separated, a fresh mixture of garden soil, 
sand and well-rotted manure put into the tub, filling it one-third 
full, and about half the increase of roots placed in it, and managed 
as before. The remainder of the roots can be placed in other tubs. 
The second year they will spring up earlier, and blossom more pro- 
fusely than the first. The blossoms open early in the morning and 
close at night, as is their habit in their native ponds. 



THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 



In olden times it was necessary to set apart the best room in the 
house for the " guest-chamber." It was thought necessary to fur- 
nish it more elaborately than any other, and, by so doing, show re- 
spect and affection for the guests who occasionally occupied it. 
We think this a mistake, and are well pleased to see that house- 
keepers are learning that while they are careful to make the room 
as pleasant, inviting and home-like as their means will allow, the 
comfort and convenience of the home — of the family — should not be 
curtailed or encroached upon. A guest should receive every kind 
attention, and find the guest-chamber sufiiciently inviting to give 
the impression that he is surrounded with kindness and thoughtful 
care. All this can be done without selecting the largest and most 
commodious apartment in the house. Except in a public man's 
house, or one whose position gives him very little of the home rest 



256 THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 

and privacy that all crave, there is not the least necessity of mak- 
ing a revolution — an entire change in the regular routine of home 
life — when a guest is in the house. Certainly not to so disarrange 
and break up the usual family home-life, that children will be in 
danger of looking upon a guest as an affliction, rather than a pleas- 
ure. Children thus defrauded will not be likely to be hospitable 
or^courteous when they arrive at mature age and have homes of 
their own. 

The chambers most used, and, next to the family sitting-room, 
most necessary to the comfort and happiness of the family to whom 
the house is to be the home, and not a mere transient stopping- 
place for guests, should be the best ventilated, the largest and 
most convenient of any in the house. The mother's-chamber and 
the nursery — if there must be two apartments they should be sep- 
arated only by a door, that the mother shall always find quick and 
easy access to it at all hours — ought to be chosen with reference to 
the health and eyjoyipent of those who, for years, will probably 
occupy them. 

The "spare-pom" or guest-chamber is far less important; for, 
however honored and beloved, our guests are but temporary occu- 
pants of our rooms. We shall, of course, while they are with us, 
give them every attention, and as much time as family cares will 
permit, and, by a courteous and affectionate manner, manifest our 
pleasure in their presence and society. But to the permanent in- 
mates the house should be a resting-place from hard labor — a ref- 
uge from outside care to the older members of the family. 'To' 
make it such, the mistress of the house has a daily routine of 
duties which might be too burdensome if not brightened by cheer- 
ful, pleasant surroundings. Thus, for reasons having a bearing on 
every member of the household, it certainly is desirable that more 
thought, care and expense be given to secure a pleasant outlook, 
a thorough ventilation, and attractive as well as convenient furni- 
ture for each of the family rooms than for the one reserved for 
guests, who can, of necessity, remain but a short time. 

It is with no idea of encouraging selfishness that we have thus 
replied to the inquiries that have been sent us. There are times^ 
when so many guests are in the house, that one room will not 



THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 257 

suffice. There are times when one is liable to, expects, and enjoys 
large gatherings, and children should be taught to be ready, eager, 
to contribute some part of their own individual rights to the cor- 
dial entertainment of friends during these reunions. If not too 
frequent, so as to keep the family in perpetual unrest and confu- 
sion, it is a source of amusement, and causes much sport and real 
enjoyment, when, in family council, all meet to discuss how they 
can contrive to stretch the house and re-arrange the furniture so 
that twenty people can be comfortably accommodated, where eight 
or ten usually think they have only sufficient room. 

For a short time these efforts are not burdensome, where each 
member of the family lends a helping hand. It is like a picnic. 
Every child, from its earliest years, should be taught to find a 
pleasure in giving up rights, whims and fancies connected with its 
own apartments, to accommodate others. This is an easy lesson 
when it is understood to be only a temporary thing. Then, when 
the pressure abates, and each returns to his own room, they wilf 
better appreciate the care and affection which so tenderly arrangedl 
the apartments with reference to the peculiar taste and comfort of 
each member of the family. 

It is painful if, instead of this effort to make each room a thing^ 
of beauty, designed to satisfy the specit^l fancy of the one who is to 
occupy it, no thought is bestowed on beautifying or adorning each 
apartment, or filling them, as far as able, with objects that will 
unite grace and beauty with usefulness for the family's every-day 
use. We have often heard, " Oh, this is good enough, just for our 
own family." But on the guest-chamber enough will have been ex- 
pended to compel pinching in every thing that belongs to home and 
family comforts, just for the ostentatious display of hospitality! 
Where there is such contrasts between furnishing the family apart- 
ments and the "spare-room," it will be found that it runs through 
every thing connected with the home-life. The commonest kind of 
delf, odd bits of broken or defaced china, every variety of mis- 
mated cups and saucers, and food of the cheapest articles and 
poorest quality, prepared most carelessly, exhibit the same unwise 
disregard for simply family comfort. But let any company appear, 
and cut-glass and fine china adorn the table, which will be loaded 



258 THE GUEST-GH AMBER. 

with delicacies, over which the utmost skill in cooking has been 
expended. 

This is all wrong. Home should be first, company of secondary 
importance, if necessary to show any difference. Let your family 
have the best that can be reasonably afforded, and cordially wel- 
come your friends to share the good and pleasant things with you. 
Your children will not love home and prefer its society to all others, 
if they learn that all the good and pleasant and beautiful things 
are only to be used for visitors. One has no right to hope that the 
children will have good manners, or be refined, if they see only the 
coarsest of every thing when alone with their parents and the 
family, but are called upon, when company appears, to put on com- 
pany manners, just for the occasion. Love of home will grow 
cold, refinement will be a farce, and good manners will rust and 
become bashfulness and awkwardness, or sullen disrespect, if only 
called into use on state occasions. Constant and daily use will 
keep all these choice qualities brightened, and develop a natural, 
graceful exhibition of them, when they are taught that it is what 
should be always expected. When this attention and courtesy is 
shown to father and mother, sister and brother, daily, they become 
a second nature. 

But we have wandered from the guest-chamber. Because we 
urge that the family should have the best, we would not be under- 
stood to mean that the room friends may occupy has no claim on 
the housekeeper's attention; only that it should not be paramount 
to all others. Bestow such care and taste in furnishing it as the 
condition of the family purse will justify. Aside from that, there 
are things that should never be neglected, either in the family's 
rooms or the guest-chamber. 

The bed should be as comfortable as possible, and always scru- 
pulously clean. If only used for one night, and by only one per- 
son, the linen must be changed for every new-comer. A white 
spread, even if not of the best and heaviest quality, is always de- 
sirable for any bed. An extra blanket, neatly folded and laid 
across the foot of the bed, is almost indispensable, unless there is 
a closet in the room ; then it will be protected from the dust if laid 
there, and the occupant of the room shown where to find it. A 



THE QUEST-CHAMBER. 259 

low, easy-chair, or rocker, is needed; for a lady friend may bring 
a young child with her, who is accustomed to be quieted by rock- 
ing, A lounge, and one or two low, easy-chairs are desirable in 
furnishing a chamber ; but be careful that no bed-chamber is over- 
crowded with furniture. 

A table with a drawer, or a small, neat writing-desk, with ink- 
stand, pens, paper, envelopes, are most convenient additions to any 
chamber; and friends, who often come without much preparation, 
would look upon such conveniences, ready at hand, as a most kindly 
attention. They are among the little things that make a guest- 
chamber home-like. 

A brush, hair-brush, comb, pin-cushion and shoe-buttoner are 
needed in every chamber, and the spare room is no exception to 
this rule. One or two drawers in the bureau should be empty — 
for guests. The comb and brush in every room should be washed 
every week, A few drops of ammonia, put into a little weak suds, 
will perfectly cleanse a brush ; then rinse well and hang up by a 
string to dry. 

For a wash-stand, good soap, plenty of towels and a nail-brush 
are needed ; the water-pitcher full of fresh water, A water-bottle 
is better for drinking-water in a chamber than a pitcher, as water 
left exposed to the air in a sleeping-room becomes impure and un- 
healthy. A match-box well filled is a most important article in 
every room ; and a scrap-basket or cornucopia is needed, into 
which hair from the comb and burnt matches may be put, and 
should be emptied in the morning when slops are removed. 

Of course there are many rich and rare articles which help to 
beautify, not only the family apartments, but that set apart for 
visitors, which we have not alluded to. Those specified are all 
most convenient, and some quite necessary, for all sleeping -rooms, 
and can be provided without great expense, and many made by 
home ingenuity. In closing, permit us to say, embellish the guest- 
chamber to any extent that correct taste and your circumstances 
will permit — only do not defraud the home circle to accompUsh it. 



260 PARENTAL DUTIES, 



PARENTAL DUTIES. 

Careful attention to the manners and behavior of children i» 
among the most important parental duties ; because so much of the 
comfort and happiness of a family and of friends depends upon 
the deportment of the younger members. Only the most gentle 
firmness will restrain and guide without making the teaching gall- 
ing and a bondage that leads to deceit. 

Respectful demeanor to elders, loving attention to the wishes of 
the parents, the thousand small courtesies that are claimed for 
superiors — extended to their young associates and to the servants, 
which can only come as the result of careful parental guidance, are 
much less strictly attended to, among a large proportion of families, 
than is desirable. This neglect, so annoying to all who are com- 
pelled to endure or witness it, is most injurious, to the young. 

The beginning of the evil can be traced to the fact that parents 
and teachers seldom realize that they are under any obligations to 
treat children politely. If our children do not see us practice the 
politeness which we inculcate, why should they believe our pre- 
cepts are of any great importance ? Children have as strong claims 
for civil, polite attention as their elders have. Such gentle cour- 
tesy as we show to our friends, or are expected to, if extended to 
the children, will not interfere with the respect, deference or obe- 
dience to parental authority which is desirable and should be secured. 
Parents and teachers, on the contrary, will find an ample reward, 
if they teach children good manners by their own example as well 
as by precept. 

Elegant or polished manners are most desirable. It is not easy 
to define, exactly, what the term "good manners" means. There 
was never any book which defined it so that one term compre- 
hended the whole. But with all, educated or uneducated, who 
really possess this good thing, it is very easily recognized. Many 
who have never read a page on etiquette, and know not one of the 
rules that are expected to be the "open sesame" into the "best 
society," are beautiful examples of a wise mother's training. We 



PARENTAL DUTIES. 261 

<lo not pretend to describe it, but there is an indefinable, indescriba- 
ble something by which one can usually recognize a true gentleman 
or lady. "Blue blood," or being born "under the purple," does 
not insure it. We think it is the result of early training — a moth- 
er's handiwork. 

We see many children who act as if they thought it of no con- 
sequence how they behave at home. They talk loud, are boister- 
ous when they enter a room, race up and down stairs, and call 
with loud voices from one story to another, slamming every door 
after them, until the noise is like the report of a cannon, regard- 
less of the great annoyance and discomfort they inflict upon all in 
the house, A visitor at a house where such behavior in children is 
tolerated, would scarcely recognize them if he met them away from 
home — they can then be so quiet and unobtrusive. But that is 
not being refined and polished. True politeness and good man- 
ners can not be taken on or put off at pleasure. They must be 
home-made, instilled into the minds of the children from the cradle, 
to be the pure article. But if it is not — to be sure, even a spuri- 
ous article is better than none. At least it will be some relief to 
those who must witness the boorishness of their home manners. 

Now, if parents can teach their children that they must nut enter 
a friend's house and throw off hats, cloaks or rubbers anywhere — on 
the floor, on chairs, sofas, etc., instead of putting them in their ap- 
propriate places ; that they must not rush noisily about, talking 
loudly, or calling from one end of the room to the other ; that they 
must be respectful and deferential to all, when visiting, they surely 
■can teach them that rude conduct at home is offensive and repre- 
hensible to the last degree, and in nowise to be tolerated. Parents 
can train their children to be polite at home, as well as abroad, 
and they are guilty of a great wrong if they do not accomplish it. 

Well-bred persons— young or old — will respect the taste, comfort 
and pleasure of others, and be quite as solicitous of securing it as 
their own. They will be ashamed to allow any habit that would 
oflfend the taste or delicacy of any one to have control over them. 
They are watchful to use no annoying expressions, to guard or 
overcome any propensity that will make another uncomfortable, 
such as sharp words, sarcasm or repartees that give pain, and many 



262 SEARCHING FOR KNOWLEDGE. 

other little but troublesome habits. A well-bred person will not 
indulge in any thing of this kind at home or abroad, when there 
is danger of giving offense to any member of the family, or friend, 
who is fastidious and likely to be hurt by it. In fact, no book or 
code for good manners has ever been written that is so safe to fol- 
low as the Bible. At home and among friends or strangers good 
manners are simply those actions which spring from that spirit that 
" suffereth long and is kind," which "envieth not; vaunteth not 
itself; is not puffed up; doth not behave itself unseemly; seeketh 
not her own ; is not easily provoked; thinketh no evil." If parents 
will so teach their children, they will not only add to their own 
comfort a thousand-fold, while the little ones are maturing, but 
will prepare them to go out from their home, when they arrive at 
man's and woman's estate, useful and respected members of society, 
blessing and being blessed by all. 



SEARCHING FOR KNOWLEDGE. 

Among the many requests for information on various subjects, it 
is gratifying to note indications of a growing desire to understand 
correctly and minutely the origin or mode of manufacture of the 
many articles in general every-day use. So great a variety of things 
are constantly before the eye that they are regai'ded as "a matter 
of course," and few stop to inquire how they originated — from what 
made, how cultivated, and in what way they can be made more 
useful or profitable, or how they can be so improved as to quad- 
ruple the usual market value. 

We propose here to attempt to answer a few inquiries,, not 
elaborately, but as simply as the subject will permit: 

"Has paper, until within a few years, been manufactured from 
any other materials than cotton, old paper and rags?" 

Yes. The substances used to make paper, for centuries, are in- 
numerable. Egypt claims the honor of the first attempt to pre- 
pare material upon which to express ideas. Papyrus, a kind of 



SEARCHING FOR KNOWLEDGE. 263 

reed whose stems made their first growth under the marshy banks 
of Abyssinian, Syrian and Sicilian rivers, was the material from 
which the first paper was made. The reed, from which paper takes 
its name, was in early periods abundant on the banks of the Nile; 
but in later years it is no longer found there. Botanists are of the 
opinion that it must have been brought from Abyssinia, Syria or 
Sicily, but, for want of proper care and culture, has gradually dis- 
appeared from Egypt. 

The papyrus has numerous roots, and stocks forming in the wet, 
muddy marshes of its native rivers, spreads rapidly, and the lower 
parts of the stalk, being blanched under the mud, are less tough and 
woody than those portions that shoot upward, and therefore more 
easily made into parchment or paper. The long, smooth, triangu- 
lar stalks shoot up from their muddy beds from five to six feet 
high. The upper part of the stem is quite bare, and the flowers 
spring out from the top like a large feathery brush. They are very 
pretty and peculiar. Near and under the mud the layers of outer 
bark are thin skins or films. These are taken out, laid side by 
side so that the edges overlap a little way, just far enough to hold 
the straps together, and are then made to adhere permanently, as 
if glued, by a heavy pressure, and thus become paper, thicker or 
thinner in proportion to the number of layers that are laid one top 
of the other. The Egyptian papyrus was a government monopoly, 
and its culture restricted to certain classes. The finest of the layers, 
or pith, was used for the best paper. There was quite a large 
number of those which grew thicker and coarser as they came 
toward the surface. The coarser layers were used for sacks, mats, 
cloth cordage and sandals for the priests, and many other things. 

The ancient Mexicans use the American aloes or maguey plant, 
which grows on the table-lands of that country, to make all grades. 
of paper. It matures from ten to seventy years, according to th& 
climate. This is what we are accustomed to call "century plant," 

The Chinese were the first to make paper from vegetable fiber. 
They were not confined to one plant, but used the inner bark of a 
variety of trees — the bamboo, elm, maple, linden, beech, etc. Thus, 
rice-paper is made from a plant which they cut into thin slices 
spirally, spread out, and then compress into sheets of paper, often 



6 



264 SEARCHING FOR KNOWLEDGE. 

a foot in length and five or six inches wide. The pith which they 
take from the trees they reduce to pulp by beating, and subject to 
various other processes and manipulations. They also use rice- 
straw and other straws, silk, cotton and rags. The Japanese exhibited, 
in 1867, in Paris, at the Universal Exhibition, beautiful paper 
made from the bark of the paper mulberry-tree. The Chinese are 
not thought a proper race to live under the American flag, and 
breathe the air of a country whose boast is that it is " free to all," but 
they shame our arrogance, by their ability to economize and utilize 
productions which may be going to waste, because "eyes have we, 
yet see not" the wonderful bounties and means for comfort which 
God has scattered around us, nor the skill, from seemiijg worthless- 
ness, to force into light some of the most useful and important bless- 
ings our beautiful world stands ready to yield. To these despised 
Chinese we probably owe the invention of paper — one of the most 
important ever made — the source of quite as much comfort, pleasure, 
usefulness and culture as any other invention. 

Time fails to mention half the materials from which paper has 
been made, and most of them of a character the least likely to be 
made valuable — asparagus, artichokes, aspen, bean-vines, bulrushes, 
ferns, firs, hemp, hop vines, potato-vines, thistles, and — who can 
believe it? — tobacco! 

But the articles now in most general use are cotton and linen 
rags. These stand first. Then comes waste paper, again reduced 
to pulp, and re-made into paper; straw, cane, jute and manilla take 
the third and fourth grade; wood is often used in the cheaper 
grades of paper, especially the newspapers. Within a short time ex- 
periments have been made in Florida on the palmetto, and with 
such good results that we learn that they are encouraged to build . 
manufactories for the purpose of converting the beautiful palmetto 
into paper. 

CARAFE, OR WATER-PITCHER. 

When windows and doors are closed, and several persons are sit- 
ting in one room, the air soon becomes close and impure from the 
gases that fill an apartment from the breath of those in it. Set a 
pitcher of water, uncovered, in the room, and in a few hours it 



A SINFUL WASTE OF TIME. 265 

will absorb all the noxious gases in the room ; the air will become 
purer, but the water will be filthy and poisonous, and should be 
thrown out and fresh water put in its place. The colder the water, 
the more gas will it absorb. 

Water from a pump or water-pipes should never be used until 
the pump or pipe is well freed from the water standing in it. Cooks 
and waiters should be instructed on this point, and never be per- 
mitted to use the water, even for cooking purposes, until it is 
allowed to run long enough to clear the pipes from the water in 
them. 



A SINFUL WASTE OF TIME. 

A friend inquires if it is not "a sinful waste of time to give so 
much attention to mending and repairing, by those who can afford 
to buy new garments, when the poor besiege our doors daily with 
scarce sufficient clothing to protect them from freezing? Would it 
not be wiser — certainly more Christian — if ladies would give their 
half -worn garments to such applicants, instead of spending hours in 
repairing and remodeling them for their own use?" 

No. We think not. Reflect a moment. Notice these ragged 
applicants for assistance more carefully. How many, in every fifty 
that beg for help, give any evidence that they have ever spent a 
moment in attempts to repair the rags that barely cover them? 
Would they be so ragged if they had? They may be beggars be- 
-cause every other resource has failed them ; every effort to find 
employment by which they could help themselves and families may 
have proved fruitless. They may be desperately pour, but they 
need not be ragged or dirty. Water can be obtained by the poorest 
to keep their garments scrupulously clean ; and if needle and thread 
were needed for repairs, any one would cheerfully give them. But 
^ho that has heard repeated almost hourly the set form of begging, 
"A widow with three, six, eight or ten small children," or husband 
■*'gone off," "not a mouthful to eat," and so on to the end of the 



266 A SINFUL WASTE OF TIME. 

beggar's list of wants, who has ever heard them beg for needle and 
thread to repair their poor clothes ? If such a request was ever 
made, it is impossible to imagine that it was refused. When we 
see rags and filth, it is not uncharitable at once to conclude that 
indolence, aversion to the use of water, lack of attention to the 
small slits and holes — has done more than neglectful, improvident 
husbands to make the owner a beggar. Such persons do not reflect 
that "a stitch in time may not only save nine" additional stitches,, 
but that a timely repair will go far toward saving the whole gar- 
ment from utter ruin, and the wearer from the disgrace of rags. 

How long would a lady's second-hand garments last, if given to- 
this improvident, reckless class? Usually made of fine materials 
that were not designed to stand hard, rough usage, how many days 
would the recipient of such injudicious charity wear a dress before 
she would have it holes and tatters from top to bottom, until it 
would be past repaii'ing? Whereas, a lady's neat and tasteful re- 
modeling would make the garment becoming, beautiful and serv- 
iceable for a long time. No ! Give to such characters the strongest 
material that can be spared from your morning wardrobe, if sa 
situated that it is necessary to take an active part in household 
affairs, and to perform work that requires strong, serviceable mate- 
rial — or buy and make up, if you can, what you feel inclined to 
bestow ; but do not waste fabrics which you can use effectively, but 
which they would destroy before it could do them any great service. 
Those of our benevolent institutions, sewing societies, etc., are the 
wisest who solicit from merchants and friends strong, stout goods, 
and have them made up for use, instead of soliciting "cast-off"' 
clothing of the better sort, which is of little service unless to fill 
boxes for missionaries' families. There — finer materials may be 
used to great advantage, and even prove a blessing to many refined 
souls. 

Would the time spent in patching and darning be more wasted 
than that given by thousands of our genteel ladies, to crocheting 
and embroidering objects, unlike aught in heaven above, the earth 
beneath or the waters under the earth ? 

We do not intend to speak lightly, or to ridicule the manufacture- 
of many kinds of really elegant fancy articles and adornments that 



A SINFUL WASTE OF TIME. 267 

are the results of woman's skill; but should disaster come, and 
any of us be compelled to " rise up early and sit up late, and eat 
the bread of carefulness," to plan, turn and contrive, using all the 
skill we possess to convert old things into neat and comfortable gar- 
ments, "almost as good as new," how thankful one should be who, 
in younger and more prosperous days, had been educated to give 
such attention to the care of their clothes that they are able to 
carry into altered circumstances a power to bring some light out 
of darkness! 

If one understands how to renovate and remodel, there is far 
more genuine pleasure in using that knowledge to construct new 
out of old, than can be gained in going from store to store, con- 
stantly searching for something new, and shopping on the most ex- 
travagant scale. To walk into a store with money in plenty, no 
need to count the cost, but to buy without stint whatever for the 
moment strikes the fancy, or the eye covets, to send the material to 
one of Worth's pupils, have it made and brought home with no 
effort ©r care, save strict injunctions to have it in the latest style, is 
tame enjoyment, compared with contriving a dress from a scant 
pattern, or from odd bits and ends. We weary of that which costs 
no toil or thought. The charm of possession soon vanishes, and we 
seek for something new. • 

Parents who have the best interests of their daughters near their 
hearts, will teach them that kind of care and economy that will be 
invaluable under all circumstances ; for none of us can foresee what 
is in store for our children; and if our daughters' lots are cast 
where they can not be as lavishly supplied as when in their parents' 
houses, when on them will rest the responsibility of making "a 
little stretch a great ways," then how vividly will they recall tlieir 
early teachings, and realize how much of their happiness and suc- 
cess in their position as wives and mothers depend on what their 
early teaching was! 

Many, in the years of scarcity which they never thought possi- 
ble, remember how often their impatience was met by tlieir moth- 
er's gentle reproof, "It will do you no harm, daughter, to know 
how to do this work, and some time you may be deeply grateful 
that I have made it one part of your education." 



268 SKILLFUL NURSING. 



SKILLFUL NURSING. 

It is desirable that mothers should truly estimate the importance 
of educating their daughters to a thorough knowledge and skill in 
all home accomplishments. But while endeavoring faithfully to 
perform this duty to their girls, let them not forget that good nurs- 
ing and delicate care for the sick and feeble is one of the most im- 
portant duties, to be incorporated intimately with the whole routine 
of domestic knowledge and home duties. The gentle attentions 
and unwearying patience so necessary to nurse the invalid back to 
health and strength in the gentlest, most unobtrusive manner, are 
too little thought of; yet courageous and effectual effort is among 
the lessons that a mother should begin early to teach her daughters. 
A little girl with quick sensibilities and sympathy for suffering, 
will lay these lessons to heart, and weave them in with growing 
knowledge much sooner than if the rudiments were not unfolded 
before her until she had seen more of the pleasures of life, through 
society, and her interest in individual sufferings had not been, 
brought into action while her heart was more tender and un- 
selfish. 

It is true that some have no natural skill or sympathy with this 
part of a woman's duty, and will probably never make great attain- 
ments in this line. But all the more reason that, by early training 
and unwearied, patient drilling, daughters should so far understand 
the principles of good nursing that the sick who may be thrown 
into their care, when they are mistresses of families, shall not ab- 
solutely suffer from neglect and ignorance, or go through the slow 
starvation that must be their doom, if surrounded by those who are 
heartless through ignorance of the simplest rules of nursing. 

We once heard an old lady say that "true economy was a gifl 
of God." However that may be, it does seem that the true art of 
caring for the sick and feeble is an unmistakable talent — God-given. 
One can easily tell if persons have the instinctive talent for nursing 
by seeing them for a few moments in a sick-room, or by the side of 
one just entering the convalescent stage. It is terture, partciularly 



SKILLFUL NURSING. 269 

to one much reduced by long illness — weak and almost childish 
through great exhaustion — to have a certain class of persons near 
them. The rustle of a silk dress — which should never be heard 
in the sick-room anyhow — is to one very weak almost unendurable. 
Loud talking, sympathy expressed in an off-hand way, because the' 
caller thinks it the proper thing to do, but which has no heart in 
it, and a long list of inquiries, rapidly uttered, with no pause be- 
tween for an answer: "What's the matter? What does the doctor 
say? Have you any appetite? What could you relish most — a 
little soup? some broth? a good bit of hot steak?" etc. — all this 
rattled off in a way that irritates and rasps the nerves like the filing 
of a saw. 

With transient callers one can bear it, because such calls are not 
often long. But if this were the usual tone every day, from those 
on whose care the sick person is thrown, it would be intolerable. 
However, there is a drop of comfort and some compensation in 
every dark corner. Usually those who have no sympathy with 
the sick, or talent for nursing them, are not often tempted to enter 
the room. 

.Yet there are those who, when with the sick, appear instinct- 
ively to understand just what to do or say. We know a little girl 
who is a natural-born nurse, and who will sadly change, or our 
judgment be proven greatly at fault, if, when she arrives at 
womanhood, she is not always a good angel in any sick-room into 
which she may be called to enter. We have seen her step softly to 
the side of one just emerging from severe illness, lay her little 
hand on the fevered brow, hold the hot hand a few moments, then 
quietly wet her nice little handkerchief, and, without one word, 
bathe the hot face and hands as softly and gently as if soothed by 
a ftiiry's touch. Finding the heat subside a little, which she seemed 
quick to notice — still no word spoken but the thanks of the pa- 
tient — she softly leaves the room, to return with a tiny glass of 
ice-cold lemonade, and smilingly offers it to the parched lips. Time 
and time again we have had the opportunity of watching this little 
ministering spirit in her quiet work, and felt she would grow up to 
be a source of great comfort to many. 

One of the most important things to bear in mind, when minis- 



270 SKILLFUL NUBSINO. 

tering to the sick, is to ask as few questions as possible. Lei judg- 
ment, instinct and close observation tell if sponging the head and 
hands will be a comfort, and, if needed, do it without asking a 
question, and do it gently and noiselessly. Turn the pillow on 
which the head lies, or which may support it in the back of the 
chair, or put a fresh, cool one in its place while the one removed 
is airing, but do it so softly and with such tender touch that the 
patient is not disturbed. None but those who have suffered for the 
lack of such grateful, unobtrusive attentions can realize their value 
and comfort. 

Let one with no knowledge of how to act come in and at- 
tempt these kind offices, and mark the difference. With a loud 
voice and rapid movements, "Here, let's change your pillow — 
your head will be cooler. Raise your head while I remove it, and 
give it a good shaking up;" and with energy sufficient to knead a 
batch of bread, the kindly but too boisterous friend pulls out the 
pillow with a jerk that sets the head throlibing, and with much 
noise and rapid motion beats and shakes the pillow, and as roughly 
pushes it, freshened and cooled, to be sure, behind the drooping 
head, with a vehemence altogether out of place in the sick-room. 
If one could note the sufferer's pulse before this "mighty rushing 
wind" swept into the room, and compare it with what it will be 
after the pillow is twitched out, and this energetic shaking up has 
been accomplished, and the victim is permitted to lay the head 
back in peace, she would readily comprehend the importance of 
quiet, gentle ways in a sick-room. 

The next important step is to find food absolutely necessaiy to a 
healthy convalescence after a long and prostrating illness. That is 
just the time when the nurse's skill and ingenuity will be taxed to 
the utmost. Never try to coax the appetite by asking the patient 
what is wanted. Bring in some dainty unexpectedly. If on first 
trial it is not satisfactory, say nothing ; do not look or feel disap- 
pointed ; quietly remove the dish from sight, and then try again, 
preparing something entirely different, until at last you hit on that 
which pleases the eye, and which the stomach will retain without 
any nausea. Then there is an important step taken which tends 
toward rapid and healthy recovery. 



SKILLFUL NURSING. 271 

Never ask the sick, " What would you like?" The stomach re- 
volts the moment the patient is called upon to think about food, no 
matter how dainty the article may be over which the mind ponders 
while it is being prepared. Thought at once runs wild. " Now 
what will they make it from? Will the utensils in which they make 
it be perfectly clean? Which of them all will be appointed to make 
it? " Ail the weak, unbalanced fancies that great exhaustion sets 
loose are holding a wild carnival. When, after too long protracted 
waiting, a dish which might tempt an epicure stands before them, it 
becomes at once an abomination to the sick fancy, and the exhausted 
sufferer, who would fain show pleasure at the kind intent, is com- 
pelled to turn from it. The throat shuts up tightly, and could more 
readily swallow the most nauseous medicine than that which has 
been set before them. 

No professional nurse can, for a moment, be compared with the 
mistress of the family, who has catered for the pleasure of her flock 
for years, and knows each individual taste and peculiarity. Taking 
counsel with the physician, and learning what will be harmless, in 
case the patient fancies it, she will with her own hands, if at all 
efficient, prepare some dainty form of nourishment, or superintend 
its being prepared, watching carefully that nothing is scorched; 
always remembering a little more sugar or salt can easily be added 
by the patient if not quite enough ; but if too salt or too sweet for 
the weak stomach, love's labor is lost and the invalid suffers. When 
neatly prepared, choose the prettiest bowl or cup, cover a small 
waiter with a snowy napkin, and quietly bring it to the patient. Sit 
down, and gently ask if the repast seems pleasant and can be tasted 
without any disturbance. 

But suppose this proves a failure? Don't be irritated or impa- 
tient, but cheerfully, after a short time, try something simple, but 
entirely dissimilar, and offer that. It will not be long, if patient 
and quiet, before the very thing will be found. 

Until similarly situated, none can fully realize the horrors of con- 
valescence, unless some good angel, with placid brow and smiling 
lips, stands by the side ready at the right moment to step down and 
trouble the waters continually, until the right spring is touched that 
will send healing and strength through the languid veins. 



272 MARCH, APRIL AND MAY. 



MARCH, APRIL AND MAT. 

From time immemorial it has been customary to rail against 
March, and all the annoyances that are supposed to come with that 
month. Usually there is much cause tor criticism. Surly, cross, 
uncertain, blustering and disagreeable to the last degree, are some 
of the comments that are heard when that month of ill-repute is 
mentioned. Housekeepers are warned of the necessity for increased 
vigilance in their efforts to prevent the mischiefs that are apt ta 
accompany the frowns, the raw winds, or blinding snows of March. 
If now and then the morning dawns with bright sun and mild and 
gentle breezes, the cry is, " Don't trust it ; it is fooling you." Its 
smiles are deceitful and soon lost in frowns, and the warm sun- 
light is soon lost in fierce winds, or cutting, drifting snows. 

There is no house, however well protected, into which these winds 
and storms will not force an entrance ; therefore it behooves the 
careful housewife to be vigilant, and keep dusters, brushes and 
brooms close at hand and in good working order. If the dust is 
allowed to settle and remain undisturbed for twenty-four hours even, 
it will use up threefold the amount of time to dislodge it that 
would have been needed if the dusting had been repeated several 
times during the day. We allude more especially to those rooms 
in constant, daily use. If allowed to remain through the day in order, 
to save present time, it soils the hands, dims the freshness and clean- 
liness of the dresses, spoils book sand pictures, finds lodgment in 
sculptured marble or carved work, settles in every plait of the 
upholstery work on the furniture, and will be found in every fold of 
the delicate lace curtains. To be sure, repeated dusting and brush- 
ing in one day does take much more time for a day or two, or while 
the violent winds continue, than to dust carefully every morning 
and settle in your mind that it will answer till the next morning. 
But when a housekeeper is content with this, and thinks she has 
economized time, does she ever bring into the account of profit and 
loss the hours it will take her in a month or two to shake and gently 
brush out the dusty curtains, whip and dig out the lint and dust 



MARCH, APRIL AND MAY. 273 

that is packed solid around every button, and in the fiber of the vel- 
vet, reps or satin of the furniture? How long will be the labor of 
blowing, scrubbing, brushing the marble mantels, the finely-carved 
statuary and pictures, when you attempt to remove the dust that has 
been allowed to settle and harden for weeks, because " it takes so 
much time to be constantly dusting?" Will it not occupy fourfold 
more time than would have been employed in dusting before it had 
time to harden ? And after all the long process and fatigue, each 
article will be defaced — aged— hy the neglect, so that no amount of 
sponging, brushing and cleaning will restore the beauty that might 
have been preserved fresh and comforting for years by a little extra care. 

If there was no other reason for patient continuance in well-doing — 
in spite of discouragement and the daily renewal of conflict — the 
lasting injury done to furniture, carpets and works of art should be 
sufficient. The evil effects on carpets alone should settle the question. 
The sharp grains of dust sink into the meshes and threads of the 
carpets, and the friction of walking on them, unless often removed,, 
wears out the material in one of these windy months more than inj 
any other two months of the year. 

During these windy days a good beating two or three times a 
week with a carpet whip is of great service to dislodge dust from 
chairs, sofas, table-covers, mattresses, etc., but should be followed 
by a feather-duster over all, and the use of an old silk handkerchief 
for polished or highly varnished furniture. 

Windows are not easily kept clean at this season of the year. If 
there is rain or snow, they are soon followed by high winds, which 
dry the streets and soon cover the wet windows with a storm of dust, 
settling into the moldings and around the sash to such a degree 
that much time and hard labor are required to remove it and polish 
the glass. It is a wise thing to do, when windows are so quickly 
defaced and made dull by the clouds of dust constantly in motion, 
to wet a clean, soft cloth with alcohol and cleanse them in that 
way. It is much quicker, cleans the glass thoroughly, gives a 
brighter polish than water can, and, by its speedy evaporation, the 
dust has less chance to undo the work than when water is used. 
There is an objection to the use of alcohol on the ground of econ- 
omy ; but the work is so much more effective, and takes so much 

18 



274 LIVE AND LEARN. 

less time that, during the windy season, if one can afford a little 
extra expense, we incline to think that it is not extravagant. It 
must be used with judgment ; a very little will suffice. 

At this season of the year it is peculiarly needful that all the 
ashes, especially in the furnace, should be removed every morning 
the first thing before any dusting is attempted. If allowed to accu- 
mulate in the cellar, a heavy wind will send them through the flues 
and registers to settle in carpets, furniture, etc. , and do much more 
injury than dust, because the alkali in the ashes injures the colors 
and eats and destroys the texture. 

It is a great trial to a methodical housekeeper to put off the wash- 
ing a day or two, but during these windy months one is sometimes 
almost compelled to do it. We know it deranges the work planned 
for the rest of the week, and makes one feel unsettled, as if every 
thing was sadly out of joint ; but unpleasant as are such innovations, 
in the end it is wiser to submit to the tyrannical caprices of this 
most arrogant season. To see all the clothes on the line blown into 
tatters, or the hems all fringed out, is worse than tp defer the work 
and wait for a milder day. One day's snapping on the line, in a 
high windy day, would injure the clothes much more than weeks of 
wear. 

Yet a brisk March or spring wind has its good points. If blank- 
ets, carriage-robes and heavy winter garments are put on the line 
in a high wind, they are too cumbersome to be whipped or injured 
by the gale as cotton and linen are ; and this same whipping is a 
most excellent and effective mode of freeing such heavy articles 
from dust and moths. 



LIVE AND LEARN. 



As learning advances and becomes more common, knowledge of 
every description flows with greater freedom, and opportunities are 
opened to all classes for more extended intellectual improvement 
and closer critical investigation of every variety of topics. 



ZIVE AND LEARN. 275 

So, while new theories are l>eing constantly promulgated, intri- 
cate problems disentangled, dark places flooded with light, and 
faith in the old familiar landmarks grows faint under the bewilder- 
ing discussions which lead toward marked changes, should not the 
ancient adage have another rendering, and " live and un-learn " be 
henceforth accepted as the "new revision?" 

Great minds are constantly stumbling, in the most unexpected 
manner, over strange discoveries. All professions, by careful re- 
search and close study, strike some new vein, leading to results en- 
tirely different from those indorsed by the fathers. In old theories 
of medical lore, legal interpretations, or theological doctrines, sup- 
posed to have been long established on a basis past controversy or 
dispute, the eager student, by close observation and severe study, 
discovers, or thinks he does, an error, a flaw. This, once suspected, 
will be followed up relentlessly until the old beliefs are exploded, 
and others — fresher, and perhaps more reliable — are substituted. 
These new lights are placed as beacon-fires to guide the rising gen- 
eration at least until another reformer, a newer and stronger light, 
steps from the ranks unsatisfied, and, searching for a better way, 
discovers a weak spot also in the guiding creed, after long and 
sometimes hot discusssion — which, in its turn, melts away and van- 
ishes from sight, even though still to memory dear, and in its place 
still more advanced doctrines take the lead. 

Now, let not our readers be misled, and look for a learned discus- 
sion on higher topics than we are accustomed to treat them to. In 
this parade of words into which we have been unconsciously led, it 
will be found that the mountain presents, as usual, the smallest 
kind of a mouse. 

Nevertheless, if mighty men of intellectual valor in time discover 
that, after all their labor, their interpretat-ons are something of a 
failure, explorers of a humbler order need not be surprised to find 
that progress in every department of life tends toward change, and 
usually to better ways of thinking and doing, than those they first 
adopted as most satisfactory ; and if this progress often leads us to 
discard our own teaching and develop a better way, it should be a 
source of genuine pleasure and thankfulness. 

It may seem a steep descent, in the estimation of many, to pass 



276 LIVE a:sd leabk 

from scientific or learned research to the simple economies of prac- 
tical life, which are in the hands of the mistress of a household. 
But while we believe woman is capable ef entering any profession, 
after proper preparation, and cau fill it creditably, we must still 
feel that the crowning glory oi a woman's life is care for her chil- 
dren, and to stand in all honor and dignity the supreme mistress 
of her own household. If, aside from that, she is capable of filling 
other places of trust, without failing in any respect in the duties 
that belong to home rule, she is perfectly justified in accepting 
them. But the home scepter should never pass from her hands, or 
be delegated to another, till death removes it. If, through the in- 
fluence of others, or her own folly and love of ease, she yields this, 
her light has gone out, her glory departed. 

"We fully believe in the wife's earnest endeavor, as far as God 
has seen fit to endow her, to keep so close with her husband in 
study and intolleetual culture as to be a congenial helpmeet to him 
there, as well as iu all home affairs. Unfortunately, the All-wise 
Father has not touched the lips of all women with that fire which 
gives the power to be constantly entertaining, or pleasant conversa- 
tionists, or the faculty to reveal how much lies hidden bejieath that 
painful timidity that makes them dumb. Such, if loving and full 
of tenderness, carry in their hearts a perpetual ache that none but 
God ever understands — for they know how sadly this great defect 
causes them to be misunderstood and poorly appreciated. 

But there is seldom a sorrow that is not softened by such com- 
pensation. Such wives, if possessed of clear and sound executive 
abilities, and the power to look more to the comforts of home, can 
make themselves invaluable. While the husband pursues his sci- 
entific or professional labors, the wife has also a broad field for 
study in her attempts to substitute for the old tread-mill routine of 
household labor, a wiser and better mode, which will simplify labor, 
and make the lives of her employes less of a drudgery, and leave 
time for their tuental improvement. If, by her wise government 
and helpful explanations, more and far better work is accomplished, 
she can not feel that she has lived in vain. 

This is just what every honest-hearted, intelligent housekeeper 
should strive for dailv ; to free her mind without hesitation from a 



MALARIA. 277 

bigoted faith in old ways, when newer ones can be proved better. 
Let her, by careful experiments, search for that which her reason 
shows may lighten labor, without diminishing comfort, even if, hy- 
so doing, she must discard some of her own most cherished theories. 
Who can say that such investigations and experiments, well tried 
by a woman's practical hand, though in what is commonly thought 
to be a humbler sphere, may not prove as substantially beneficial, 
in the progre.ss of time, as those experiments and researches which 
«re rated as infinitely higher in value? 



MALARIA. 

Almost every year the community is roused by some form of sick- 
ness attended with symptoms not easily explained. Beginning, per- 
haps, in one family, apparently among the most robust, it passes 
on the others, and, in warm weather particularly, shows signs of as- 
suming a malignant character. It has come so suddenly — without 
warning— that the people are, for a time, bewildered and make no 
pretense of finding a reason for this unlooked-for-'danger. Shaking 
off the stu])or of the first surprise, each one begins to search for a 
reason why such trouble has befallen them. No two arrive at the 
same conclusion. The physicians of every school have their own 
peculiar theory, but eveiy new explanation but increases the alarm. 
Bad sewerage, imperfect drains, neglected pipes, poorly ventilated 
rooms are among the most sensible theories; but whatever the 
theory, the general impression is, that the whole neighborhood is, 
in some mysterious way, poisoned and tending to destruction. They 
half believe that they can trace the evil to one single house from 
■which the whole has spread ; but until the cause is found past con- 
troversy they have no faith in any remedy for cure or protection 
from the epidemic that has come among them. 

But whatever the sufferers or their neighbors may call the evil, 
physicians save their breath, if not their reputations as wise and 
safe counselors, by calling the trouble "malaria." This has a 



278 MALARIA. 

iiouu'whiit di^rnituxi niui Io:inu\i si-'uud. aiui e:ioh iiulividiuvl is :U lib- 
ortv to dotino tho uieaniuLT in siu'h way as is i^to thonO most satistiie- 
torv. It Nvoulii not answor lor tho dootor to hositato tor a utoniont 
in civiiii;- it a ■:,:■::', It is not his tanll it' pooplo tail to intor- 
prot tho phraso a.< ho doos. or tind tho tonn vaguo, it' not quito iii- 
oouiproh.onsihlo. 

Knt what is '•malaria?" From what souroo doos it spriiiL:'' or 
doos it arrivo t'rom no otio spooial oauso, but throiiLi'h somo pooii- 
liaritv ot" atniosphoro in tlio surro;;r.d;n;: ooinitry. tVom noc'lootod 
pipos or drains, or aoounir.lation ot' tilth tliai I'.as lodtiwi iii sowors. 
or oropt into oollars or dark olosots. and novor boon promptly at- 
tondod to? It' so, no donbt tho noxious pisos h.avo lillod tho air 
with impnritv : attd who oa.n wondor it' sioknoss and doath is the 
rosult? Thoso thing-s aro roasons quite stron^:- enough to bring I'atal 
ro.:fult.s. 

]No donbt ••malaria." nndor many torms. is bred tVom any otte 
of these oansos: still wo have our own theory ott th.o snbjoot. Winle 
rho liuivl re.sult.s mav bo tho s.anio siokitoss and porb.aps doath — yet. 
in a "Verv lar^o proportiori of oases. t;\o sewerage di-ains or pipo.s 
are not halt' as ot'iou the tirs: o.w.so of :roi:b!o. f.s l.iok of vigilant 
SUpevvisiou on dio par; of r.:;in}' i'.or.s.SvOopors. O:'ooi;vso i: is ntiioh 
ea^er to oall ono's sovv;ints to the lady of tl-.o house aiui givo f.O'.-.so- 
hold d"roo;io"s. than it is to go to tho ki;o;:on and thovo :■-;■. \v^o :fr 
the d.::.os of the day: or it is oortainly o.:sior ono:; ;o go :o ;fe 
kitchen ami givo t.h«? suirablo o.irootion^i. than, wheit tliore. to tool 
the duty of w-atohiug the p' ogross of oaoh brri.oh of work that it; 
being done, to visit clt>!»et*:. pa. ;. ios ;.. d vo y of.on f ; o oellar, wot 
only to look, but to handle. 

But is ejise the chief aim of a housekeeper? 2s o matter how nice 
the parlors may look when one calls, they are not always true in- 
dicators of gxxvd housekeeping. It is uotliing but baby-|>lay to keep 
house superJioially, giving only surface care. It requires no giieat 
skill or experience to see that furniture and works of art about tlie 
house are neatly plaood and tn'tb.t'if ly dusted. Ivo.t t'ovo is some- 
thing niOT« necessary to earn ti.o f.on.or of Iving a good house- 
kooivr, one who •• lookoth well to th.o ways of her household.** 
There is groat dignity and hoTTor in that : even when it may prove 



Ml LA lit A. 27 J> 

quite laborious, it brinjjs its own nbundaut ivwanl. Tlie oycs are 
very useful, but one can not be a <;-ooil housekeeper who depends 
only on her eyes. How nuiny housekeepers in Ibooklyn or New 
York, who look to hired help to ilo the rough work of the family, 
are sure that they really know in just what eondition their closets, 
store-rooms or eellars are? " Why! I i^o two or three tinu>s a week 
aud see for myself." Yes; but did you use your hands as will as 
your eyes — taking up the things, putting them in better onler, so 
as not to take so nuu-h room, and thus necessitate piling big things 
and little irregidarly and unskillfiilly ? And while eyes and hantls 
were busy, did you permit the nose to take part in the daily investi- 
gation? Ah! that would too often tell you from what sourees 
malaria s])rings! 

\N'e can imagine the scornful air with which many estimable 
ladies will read this. '' What is the woman thinking about? Does 
she imagine that we are all slatterns?" Oh, no! Only that you, like 
too niany other ladies, have, little by little, given up more and more 
care to hired girls, and. while every thing.^('C»/.s" in excellent order, do 
not examine those parts of (he premises that actually need the most 
constant investigation, hecause on these th(> health, if not (he lives, 
of the family depend. Let us ask, do you k(H'p a proper watch 
over your sinks? Did you ever notice how the girl washes her 
dishes? or, while she has clean water in the pan, do you see that she 
has scraped half the waste from the plates right into the sink, where 
it remains until her dishes are washed and put away? 

"Well, what great harm is there in that? Not very tidy, to be 
sure; but what cause for malaria do you see in it?" 

Simply this: The waste, or, in plain English, the swill, thrown 
into the sink and brushed one side out of the way of the dish-j)an, 
as the dish-water and suds are constantly clashing over it, gradually 
dissolves, and finds its way into the pipes which carry off the dish- 
water. These pipes under the sink have usually a bend — or what 
is called by the jilumbers a "goose-neck" — half way down from the 
sink to the floor. Water without sediment or substance easily 
flows down through this bend without any hinderance, and, if hot, 
cleanses the pipes. But the small, greasy j)articles from the solid 
matter thrown into the sink, lodge by the way, and grease nm} 



280 MALARIA. 

•sediment accumulate, until the pipes are effectually blocked up, or 
so nearly that the water is carried off very slowly. These particles 
at first seem perfectly harmless, but the hourly deposits have ren- 
dered them formidable. Remember what they are composed of — 
meats, vegetables, coffee and tea-dregs, and milk. Then imagine, 
if you can, what they will be after some days' or weeks' accumula- 
tions. When at last the plumber must be called in to open a free 
passage for the dish-water, if the mistress of the house stood by, she 
would wonder that the terrible stench which rises on opening the 
passage had not caused sickness and death, not only in her own 
family, but throughout the whole neighborhood. 

And it is from such small beginnings, such carelessness, unnoticed 
by many housekeepers until brought to the light of day — when com- 
pelled to have pipes cleared out or drains opened — that our homes 
become the hot-beds for propagating disease, which finds every 
facility for becoming malignant enough to depopulate a whole 
neighborhood. 

But it is not neglected sink or closet-pipes alone that furnish the 
atmosphere which engenders sickness. Do a large proportion of our 
housekeepers know, by actual observation, the exact condition of 
their pantries, meat-safes, bread-boxes and refrigerators? Do not 
be angry that such questions are asked. No doubt you look into 
all these receptacles, and often remove the contents for daily use. 
But is that all that is needed to insure a perfectly clean and healthy 
condition of the atmosphere you breathe while attending to the 
duties which call you thither? Doubtless most servants receive ex- 
plicit orders to wash the closets, pantries, refrigerators and dark 
passages thoroughly, and see that they are cleansed, at least once 
a week. But do their employers know that it is done, and well 
done ? No doubt those also who have the care of the furnace — the 
^' black holes" often running far under the sidewalks in city houses — 
have orders to keep them clean, to brush down cobwebs, to allow 
no refuse matter to be thrown in the coal-bins or in dark corners. 
But does the mistress know that those orders are promptly and faith- 
fully obeyed? The underground places of most city houses, often 
unlighted, un ventilated, as dark as Egypt, are bad enough, under 
the most scrupulous care ; but if neglected only for one week they 



MALARIA. 281 

are most dangerous, destructive of health and life — malaria-breed- 
ers of the worst type. Do many of our housekeepers ever examine 
these places to know, by actual observation, that their directions are 
faithfully obeyed ? 

How many who may read this question will exclaim with looks 
of horror, " 7 go down into that coal-cellar! No, I thank you! 
Nothing would tempt me to do it. If my servants don't keep that 
part of the house clean, as I direct, it may go unclean for all me ! 
A pretty place for a lady to go into 1 " 

We grant that usually the lower cellears are not pleasant places, 
and, if not kept scrupulously clean, too dirty for "a lady" to enter. 
But if that is so, it is the lady's fault. To go down into such cellars 
may, for a moment, produce a sort of " creepy" sensation, especially 
if one take the time when all alone in the house. A " servmit" as 
well as a lady, may be excused if she dislikes that. But it is seldom, 
in most cases, necessary to go there when alone in the house. If 
well kept — and nothing but the mistress's constant watchfulness 
will insure that — there is nothing derogatory to the first lady in the 
land to go, at least, once a week over every part of her house, from 
top to bottom, any more than it is to be the mistress of her hus- 
band's house. She can not fulfill the duties of a true wife and 
"home-maker" if she allows any portion of the house to escape her 
vigilant, personal watchfulness. In that way only can she secure 
the health of her family, and, by exacting rigorous cleanliness — 
most of all in the lower, least ventilated parts of the house — defy 
malaria. 

Suppose you go with us on an exploring expedition. Let's start 
at the bottom and work our way upward. If confident that your 
employes have faithfully obeyed your orders, you need have no 
fears of soiling your dress — only trains are as much out of place 
when going to the cellar as they are in — the parlor. 

"Whew! How close it smells! and how dim the lamp burns! 
It seems uncanny! I won't go any further." 

That's silly. Follow us, and we will risk any bad spirits, unless 
we stumble on to malaria. And surely it does begin to smell like 
it! What is that on that pile? Old shoes, old rags — and, look! old 
tones, and a dish of refuse meat far gone in decay! Enough to 



282 MALARIA. 

start a good-sized malarial fever, anyhow! This is not like the 
leavings of a cat or dog (if you keep them), but looks very much as 
if some tramp, or "a cousin from ould Ireland" has been secreted 
and fed here for awhile. 

" Now, that is an extreme case. Such things don't happen once 
in an age." 

Don't they ? Why, my dear lady, there is much more mischief 
going on in the lower regions of many city homes than your phi- 
losopy ever dreamed of. If they didn't leave filth and the seeds of 
disease behind them, it would be more pardonable. But let us look 
further. Here are old hats, old rags too filthy for further use with- 
out the good washing that the girl think too much trouble to give ; 
the wings and the feathers of poultry, and much more of the same 
class thrown into the coal-bin, and alive with worms — enough, if 
properly collected and kept in a close jar, to furnish "meal-worms'^ 
to all the bird-raisers of the nation. But left at large in all that 
filth, they furnish food for "the pestilence that wasteth at noon- 
day." Many who have just rented a house, and are cleaning it 
before moving in, can vouch for the truth of this. 

Caution. — Take care that the house you vacate for the one to be 
cleaned, does not also sustain this statement. 

Well, we have had enough down here. What think you ? Is it 
best for servants to come to your sitting-room and take your orders, 
or for you to go down with them, show them what you desire, and 
be sure that they know that you will see these orders are always 
faithfully executed? 

Now we come to the closet and pantries. You " do not fear our 
finding carelessness here." They do look nice, certainly. Allow us 
to come a little closer. May we take those vessels off the shelves? 
What has been spilled here ? See, I can scrape up the grease from, 
where raw meat has been laid right on the shelf, and milk spilled 
and left to sour, and butter fallen off into the corner and turned 
rancid. 

"Why! I always tell both cook and waiter to see that these 
shelves are all well washed every week." Yes, you tell them. But 
do you see that they obeyf That's the question. We can't raise up this 
shelf from the cleat on Avhich it rests. It certainly was made to be 



MALARIA. , 283 

movable. There, with that quick blow we have started it. Phew ! 
what a smell ! Every thing that has been spilled on it, as well as 
the water used to wash it off for months, has run through on to the 
cleat and settled there, until the shelf sticks as tight as if glued. 
Can closets, pantries and shelves be in that state, with constant 
accumulations of impurities, and not so contaminate the atmos- 
phere of any house that by-and-by the health of the family falls 
before malaria? 

Why do the husband or children now and then inquire, "What's 
the matter with this water — it tastes badly?" or, "This butter is 
rancid. Anyhow, it has a bad taste; I can't eat it." "Why, I get 
the very best butter. You must have drawn on your imagination." 

Let us open the door of the refrigerator, and see. It looks clean ; 
but it don't smell nice, does it ? We will take out the things one 
by one. The shelves are pretty clean (slate shelves are, however, 
more cleanly than tin, zinc or iron bars) ; but look how much we 
scrape off the cleat on which they rest and under which all this 
impurity has accumulated! No shelves, particularly in a refriger- 
ator, can be cleanly washed unless taken out of the ice-box or 
closet, and that is much the easiest and quickest way of cleaning 
them. This is bad enough, you will surely allow, and does not 
smell pleasantly. But there is something more. Let's lift this ice 
into a pan. Here is the tin bottom on which the ice rests. It' i*, 
you see, movable, and can be easily and quickly taken out — always 
the most expeditious way of cleaning an ice-chest — and should be 
done two or three times a week, before a fresh supply of ice is 
brought in, and both shelves and bottom plate be wiped dry after a 
good scrubbing, and set out in the sun and air to purify, till the 
ice-cart comes to fill the box again. 

But what have we here? The perforated shelf on which the ice 
rests is terrible filthy. We have been "Hunting the Slipper," and 
had little chance to call "Cold, cold," but all the way it has been 
"Warm," "Warm," "Warmer," "Still warmer;" and now it is 
"Hot," y. Hot," "Blazing hot," and no mistake. Here is an in- 
tolerable stench that malaria can grow fat on. We will take out 
this bottom shelf, and trust we have found the lowest depth. 
Look on what the shelf rested. . The ice which has been in daily 



284 MALARIA. 

use has been right over it, and butter, milk, meats, pies, etc., just 
above all, constantly impregnated with this fearful odor. Butter 
and milk, of all things the quickest spoiled, and which should 
never he kept in the same place, even with meats or vegetables, has 
been kept in this tainted air. For here is a mixture of pieces of 
meat, potatoes, sour milk, fruit, vegetables, broken eggs, and food 
of every variety, that has for weeks, perhaps months, accumulated ; 
for surely that shelf has never, or seldom, been removed. See how 
"helter-skelter" every dish, with its large variety of eatables, was 
thrown on to the different shelves: meat on top of the milk-pan, 
butter on the vegetables, large dishes just tipphig off of small ones, 
till the contents must, in part, fall off and mingle with the vile 
mess beneath the ice-shelf! Can any one ask for a more probable 
cause for " all the ills that flesh is heir to" — malaria, or whatever 
name one chooses to call it? 

Do you think this exaggeration? If you are the most perfect 
housekeeper the sun ever shone on, and have been so unfortunate 
as to find it necessary to move, or have been kept a prisoner in your 
room, by accident or sickness, for awhile; if you have sometimes 
been called from home for a few weeks, leaving the house in care 
of servants, however carefully you may have instructed them, and 
on your return begin to look after your house from attic to cellar, 
you will understand that this is not an exaggerated statement, and 
will also realize how easily such vast accumulations of impurity 
must collect in any house where the mistress gives her orders with- 
out seeing how they are carried out. No servant, hoAvever excel- 
lent, should be able to superintend all parts of the domestic econ- 
omy as successfully as the mistress. If she looketh well to the 
ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness, then 
if sickness enters her family, it can never be said that it comes 
through her neglect or carelessness. But " her children will rise 
up and call her blessed ; her husband also, and he praiseth her ; 
and her own works will praise her in the gates." 



LONG ENGAGEMENTS OR EARLY MARRIAGES. 285 



LONG ENGAGEMENTS OR EARLY 
^lARRL^GES. 

There are two sides to this question. As soon as young people 
are prepared to begin their life's work, after having finished the 
education which was intended to fit them for it, we by all means 
decide in favor of an early marriage, both for young men and 
women. There is no period in a young man's life when he so much 
needs the counsel, sympathy and inspiration, which are always born 
of true love, as when in his fresh, uncontaminated young manhood 
he begins the battle of life — a battle that all must fight in their 
first efforts for independent self-support; and he is safest, and far 
more certain of success, who enters the arena of life shielded by the 
love which will unite with him in laying the foundations of home. 

Knowing that the queen of his heart presides in his simple 
dwelling, and his labors must provide the means to keep it, while 
she seeks in all loving ways to aid him by tender care and judicious 
economy — how can this thought fail to give impetus to every exer- 
tion ? All self-denial, all toil becomes pleasure ; it is for her— /or 
both made one. Whatever the avocation, the supreme love shield- 
ing the new home is the same. The woodman's ax swings lighter, 
the heavy blows on the anvil have more music than fatigue in them, 
the farmer whistles more cheerfully over his plow, the mechanic's 
severest toil is lightened by a sweeter refrain, when he knows that 
his fair young bride is in sympathy with hini, and, while watching 
his return, is providing daintily for his pleasure and comfort, eager 
to give him loving welcome. To the artist at his easel come fairer 
visions to be transformed to the canvas, because of the dear one 
presiding over his house. The author in his study finds the dull- 
est subjects clothed in freshness and vigor, because of the gentle 
critic to whom he can go for aid and encouragement. The lawyer 
prepares his case with better-balanced energy, thinks more clearly, 
pleads his cause with more eflTective eloquence, inspired by the 
cheering words uttered by the young wife as he goes to his labors, 
■whose thoughts, he is assured, will follow his work with her judicious, 



286 LONG ENGAGEMENTS OR EARLY MARRIAGES. 

tranquillizing sympathy. The physician, in his daily rounds among 
the sick and suffering, knows there is one — now all his own — pray- 
ing for his success; and knowing this, it so fills his being that his 
very presence by the sick-bed has healing in it. The young pastor, 
in his efforts to minister to the spiritual wants of his flock, will 
speak peace to the troubled souls committed to his trust with far 
more zeal and tenderness, for the love that will smile on him when 
he returns home. 

In every sphere in life the early marriage that makes two faith- 
ful hearts the united architects of a true home, is a blessing that is 
not fully understood. It builds up a more perfect man and woman- 
hood than can be realized in any other way. Each shields the 
other from a host of worldly temptations that lie in wait to spring 
upon those who walk alone. Early marriages are the strongest as- 
surances of a pure life. Marriages deferred till one has had a fine 
time " to look about," to judge prudently, not through eyes of ro- 
mance, too often prove fearful temptations to wrong-doing. The 
man or woman who enters the married state from prudential reasons, 
not through the rich romance of the heart, has simply made a 
business bargain instead of accepting, what God meant to be, the 
most blessed gift to man. 

Let young people defer marriage until they are caught in the 
fatal nets of society life, and allow themselves to be guided or gov- 
erned by the rules and ideas that custom sanctions, and they are 
soon tempted to feel that one must look for position, and argue that 
marriage must be deferred through prudential reasons. The young 
man learns to yield to the guidance of ambition rather than love; 
and the young girl who loved early, but waited for a few "seasons'* 
in fashionable life, soon learns to feel that prudence bids her wait 
till her lover can enable them to begin life in as much style and 
splendor as her parents had worked themselves up to, when their 
daughter arrives at an age to be grafted into another stock. But 
"a graft should always be willing to be a graft, and Avait until, by 
legitimate growth, it has made its own top," and is tall and strong 
enough to vie with the parent tree. "Woe to that girl who says, 
I will not marry until my lover can provide for me, at the begin- 
ning of our marriage life, as lavishly and fully as my father could 



LONG ENGAGEMENTS OB EARLY MARRIAGES. 287 

at the end of his." But God's blessing goes with her who carries 
into her new Hfe all the delicacy and refinement of thought and 
action which she learned in the luxury and abundance of her father's 
house, proving that his wealth had only enriched the higher parts 
of her nature, and not so ministered to the grosser, selfish parts 
that she is not to go forth to build up another home under many 
difficulties, much self-denial, and perhaps some hardships. Giving 
herself to the chosen one, she is ready to accept her husband's less 
abundant — it may be straitened — circumstances, that both together 
may cheerfully build up a fair estate and noble position by 
beginning at the foundation. 

But there are cases where a long engagement must be accepted. 
It is full of dangers; but if each hold fast integrity, and swerve 
not from allegiance until the circumstances which compelled a de- 
lay have passed, or been overcome, then a long engagement is sure 
to end in a happy marriage ; for a love that has not been shaken 
by the long delay, and usually long absences, is not built on sand, 
but on a rock, over which floods may sweep, and the wind beat, and 
it falls not; for it was established on immovable foundations. 
When, in very early youth, before education is completed, and 
some employment secured, two meet — are drawn together and be- 
come devotedly attached— then we favor the long engagement, 
with all its perils and many heart-aches ; for any sacrifice is better 
than to relinquish the first love. We are a firm believer in the 
first love, given when the heart is young and tender, unstained by 
too close contact with the world and its bewitching and beguiling 
allurements. Such love, honestly given and as honestly returned, 
is, next to a mother's love, the safeguard of young men and maid- 
ens. This once secured, the world may spread out all her devices 
ever so skillfully, and she will not break the bond. 

So, because first young love is so sweet, so strong, and, when 
faithfully nurtured, so enduring, we say, '* Let it not go," even if 
it can be held only by a long engagement. 



288 COARSE LANGUAGE AND FREE MANNERS. 



COARSE LANGUAGE AND FREE MANNERS. 

The necessity of shielding children from the contamination of low- 
associates, and from the habits which such companionship will surely 
bring, is of the utmost importance. Low expressions — " slang 
phrases," as they are termed — ^will be one of the first-fruits. A 
"free-and-easy" way of talking and acting among strangers in the 
streets or stores, and at last ventured upon at home, will be the 
next. These two most offensive habits usually go hand in hand, 
and, very strangely, unless we look at it as an evidence of natural 
depravity, are eagerly caught up by the young. With girls, espe- 
cially, if they are allowed to use such low phrases, other unfeminine 
traits will soon follow ; often a coarse, swaggering manner, instead 
of the graceful, lady-like carriage, that indicates refinement and 
modesty. When girls or young ladies (?) are seen with their hands 
thrust deep into the Ulster pocket or surtout, as is now the term, 
and the Derby tipped on one side, talking and laughing loudly, 
walking with masculine strides, they have no cause of complaint if 
the rude, ragged little gamins in the street take infinite satisfaction 
in running after such nondescripts and calling, "I say, mister!" 
They can not but think that the attire and manner of such girls 
mark them as lawful victims for their insults and ribaldry. 

These reprehensible and offensive habits of speech and manner 
have crept into youthful society with amazing rapidity of late, and 
are so closely allied to unsafe and immoral license, that parents 
can not be too quick or peremptory in restraining the least 
approach to any such liberties. If left unrebuked at first, under 
the impression that, if apparently unnoticed, their children will 
soon see the folly of it and correct it themselves, they will find they 
have made a sad mistake. Once allowed to take root, the evil will 
soon be beyond parental control, ripening into fixed habits that will 
be a blot on their children during their whole lives. 

This kind of vulgarity carries with it a seductive fascination for 
the youthful, unbalanced mind, and tends to moral deformity, even 



COARSE LANGUAGE AND FREE MANNERS. 289 

if it leads to nothing worse. Such evils, like sin, are at first repul- 
sive and disgusting, but 

" Seen too oft, familiar with its face. 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace." 

Boys are enticed more easily into the use of vulgar and low 
expressions from coming in contact with coarse, rough boys, as they 
are naturally outdoors or in the streets more than girls, and often 
less under their mothers' influence and supervision. They are, 
therefore, in danger of having the habit fixed before it is suspected 
at home. When temptations are not resisted and repelled at the 
beginning, they find easy victims. If a boy is tempted to indulge 
in low conversation, and yields, he will find that profanity is near 
of kin. 

Girls seldom fall into habits of profanity ; but, from lack of proper 
restraint at home, too often indulge in speech and actions which are 
far from lady-like or refined, and not many years ago would not 
have been tolerated in good society. But of late, at home, making; 
or receiving calls, on the streets or in the cars, this loud, boisterous,, 
free-and-easy behavior is painfully noticeable. If seen in little girls,, 
who should be as sweet and gentle as the birds or flowers, one cart 
not avoid thinking that their mothers have not guarded their jewels^ 
as they are in duty bound to do when such priceless treasures are 
committed to their charge. If our little girls greet their brothers- 
and sisters, and perhaps even their parents, boisterously ; if, instead 
of "Good morning," they cry, "Halloo, papa! Halloo, mamma!'" 
and call to playmates in the street in the same rough manner, who will 
be surprised if this style follows them as they grow up and appear as 
young ladies? Referring to this unlady-like manner and mode of 
address, a gentleman writes that, passing two pretty, well-dressed, 
stylish-looking young ladies in the public streets, he was surprised 
to he;ir one meet the other with " Halloo, Sid !" and the other re- 
spond, " Halloo, Tude! " to her friend's greeting ; and he remarks : 
"It was just what two lounging young men might have said, or 
stable-boys, for that matter. It might not have been so much out 
of the way for the latter, but I confess it sounded very odd and 
♦ffensive in what I supposed to be two well-bred young ladies; as 

19 



290 COARSE LANGUAGE AND FREE MANNERS. 

much so as if I had heard two beautiful gray and rose-colored birds 
begin to swear. It was so unnatural, so out of place. It may be ' the 
w style ' for young girls or ladies to greet each other with an ' Halloo ! ' 

but I can't like it or get used to it. These things may seem but a trifle, 
but they make all the difference between nice things and very com- 
mon things. We usually prefer sweet, gentle, refined girls to those 
who are coarse and hoydenish. Girls may fall into this unlady-like 
habit through their brothers' example; but sisters were given to 
refine and soften the coarser nature of their brothers. If they do 
not do this, we shall no longer find in our sisters refined and refin- 
ing companions, but the coarse ways and rough speech of young 
men in flounces. Is it not just as easy to imitate the graceful man- 
ners and refined speech of a lady as those of a rude, uncultivated 
boy?" 

The same general rules for correct and pleasant behavior are 
safe for boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen. A gentleman may 
entertain the highest respect for a lady, and be on the most friendly 
and intimate terms, but, if a true gentleman, his respect will with- 
hold him from carelessness or roughness in speech or action. And 
no lady who is truly refined will brook any thing approaching a too 
familiar tone. It is, however, but just to acknowledge that a lady's 
manner will always fix the metes and bounds of the liberty which 
may "be offered. 

When boys and girls, young men and maidens, are allowed to 
fall into the absurdities of low, foolish, meaningless talk, it seems 
to dwarf them intellectually ; they can find nothing of interest or 
importance to say, and therefore make up for sense by filling every 
sentence with needless exclamations, exaggerations, or misused ad- 
jectives. It requires much patience to be compelled to listen to 
half a dozen young people, and hear the strange, inappropriate use of 
language. They will assure each other that it is "awful" warm, or 
the concert was "awful" nice; the sermon "horrid" dull; a young 
lady is "awful pretty," but her dress "horrid ugly;" the teacher 
" horrid strict ; " such a young gentleman who called had an "awful 
swell " team of fast horses. 

If young people could now and then be placed where (them- 
selves unseen) they were obliged to listen to a half-hour's con versa- 



WHERE IS THE BLAME. 291 

tion about nothing at all, and hear these poor adjectives forced into 
a conspicuous position in every sentence and on every topic of con- 
versation — their real meaning and legitimate use being entirely dis- 
regarded — it might result in their own reformation, and they might 
feel; like the gentlemen in Delmonico's, who listened to the conver- 
sation of a charming little lady and her dapper little beau, where 
every other word was " awful : " 

I confess it sorely puzzles me to think what they could say, 
If something really ' awful ' were to happen in their way ; 
For I'm sure with simple English they could never be content, 
But their thoughts in foreign expletives would have to find a vent. 

"While musing in this fashion (feeling rather cross and old), 
I forgot about my dintier, which was getting 'awful' cold; 
And the adjective kept dropping from the lips of either child. 
Till with ' awful,' * awful,' ' awful,' I was driven fairly wild." 



WHERE IS THE BLAME? • 

In our large towns and cities there are many wives who are sad- 
dened with the knowledge that their husbands are happiest when 
they can find or manufacture plausible reason for dining at a 
lunch-house or a restaurant instead of at home. Where lies the 
blame ? Sometimes, doubtless, with the husband ; quite as often in 
the kitchen. And why ? In most instances it is not from strait- 
ened circumstances. The poor can not aflbrd the luxury of choos- 
ing between the home table and a public one ; and with the rich these 
public resorts should be no luxury, but only a necessity when 
business takes the husband so far away as to make it impossible, or 
at least a great inconvenience, to lunch at home. 

The wife, who alone should be the mistress of the home, ought 
so to manage her kingdom that all the inmates of the family will 
feel not only that there is no place like home, but no table to be 
found anywhere so tempting as that which is prepared and pre- 
sided over by the wife and mother. Even if she has the most 



292 WHERE IS THE BLAME f 

competent cook, she raust still be well assured, before the bell calls 
all to the dining-room, that her table is spotlessly clean, attractively 
arranged and appetizing in its provisions. 

The proprietor of every restaurant knows very well that he must 
use every possible effort to make his tables look attractive, and make 
sure that every article of food called for is prepared in the most 
acceptable manner. If one finds, after a few trials, that the coffee is 
puor, or the soup with too little seasoning, or as salt as brine; that 
the meats are badly cooked and worse carved — mangled rather; 
that the steaks are tough, or raw, or cold; that the bread is sour^ 
or streaked and clammy— and this not once or twice, but almost 
invariably — how long would he be induced to patronize that place ? 
If wives trust all the " kitchen work" to hirelings; if, having pro- 
vided a well-recommended cook, they feel that their responsibil- 
ity, as far as the meals are concerned, ceases; if they do not make 
their cooks understand that the mistress holds full and not-to-be- 
disputed authority, not only over the parlor, but over every depart- 
ment in the house, demanding implicit acquiescence in all reasonable 
requirements, and is fully competent to judge of the performance 
of every duty — they can not complain if their husbands and sons 
learn that creature comforts are more surely supplied at restaurants, 
and patronize them rather than submit to the discomforts of the 
home table. 

If the wife first understands how to manufacture each dish that 
she allows to be set before her family herself, and is, by this knowl- 
edge, fitted to instruct her servants and secure their ready compli- 
ance with her teachings, she has it in her power, without the least 
danger of being overburdened, to surpass in attractiveness, if 
not in absolute culinary excellence, any place of public entertain- 
ment that can be found. 

To understand all the arts of cookery, and be able to practice or 
superintend the work whenever any thing elaborate or intricate is 
wished for, is an accomplishment for any lady to be proud of But 
it is far more important to understand, and successfully superintend, 
the less intricate, more substantial and healthful every-day family 
meals — to be so able to provide a charming variety that there will 



THE TOMATO. 293 

be little pleasant surprises every day or two, instead of that monot- 
ony that enables each member of the family to know just what each 
day's bill of fare will be. 



THE TOMATO. 



Many years ago our eldest brother went into one of the towns of 
New Jersey to teach. To a little girl reared on the hills of dear 
old Massachusetts, and seldom many miles from home (for in those 
ancient days home was thought to be the best place for children), 
the idea of a brother going so far away was heart-breaking. We 
had cried half the night after he had left, for surely we should 
never see him again. We went to school the next day, a most for- 
lorn and sad-browed little damsel, and our school-mates at once 
gathered around, asking: 

"What's the matter, E ?" 

"Oh, dear! Brother A has gone 'way off to Jersey!" If he 

had gone to the Feejee Islands, in danger of being eaten by canni- 
bals, we couldn't have been more disconsolate, until letters began 
to arrive from him. Not very often, for postage was then twenty- 
five cents a letter; but if he could send us a letter now and then, 
Jersey couldn't be so far off but that we might hope he could get 
back when his year's engagement expired. 

One day came a letter with some tiny seeds in it, and the letter 
told us that they were the seeds of the love-apple ; that we must 
plant it according to the full directions he gave; and, although the 
leaf was not very beautiful, or the odor attractive, yet, by the time 
he came home, those seeds would become bushy shrubs, laden with 
a bright-red fruit, very beautiful to the eye, but not good to eat ; 
that the lady who gave the seeds thought the plant very ornamental 
in her garden. 

For several years our brother's gift, sent us from so far, was care- 
fully nurtured, and throve vigorously, giving great delight when cov- 
ered with the bright balls. They looked so pretty and so tempting 



294 THE TOMATO. 

that we one day ventured to bite a piece from one of them. The 
taste was so very strange and disagreable that the piece flew from 
our mouth much sooner than it entered, and we ran in great terror 
to our mother, who was nearly as much alarmed, fearing the pretty 
balls were poisonous. 

Years after that we first saw the love-apple, or tomato, used as 
sauce for meats. We do not yet find it mentioned in the cook- 
books earlier than 1825 ; but that it has for a long time been 
largely cultivated in Portugal, and greatly appreciated, is very evi- 
dent. In Portugal it received the name of tomato — but is a native 
of South America, and it came to us under the name of love- 
apple. 

We have several times seen an account of how this fruit, now con- 
sidered so indispensable in culinary work, was first introduced into 
the States, Having seen this statement in various papers treating 
on household affairs, we presume there must be a well-credited 
foundation for it. 

It is told that many years ago a man from the Bermuda Islands 
came to New York and from there wandered into Pennsylvania, 
where he was arrested for some dishonest act, found guilty, and 
sent to the jail in York County, Pa. This man had with him some 
seeds which he had permission from the keeper to plant in the jail- 
yard. He found the soil there rich, and the seeds sent up large 
plants of vigorous growth ; but, before they matured, his time of 
imprisonment expired, and he was discharged. No one had 
thought to inquire the name or the nature of the plants. 

These plants, after a wonderfully rapid growth, blossomed, and 
were soon full of fruit — large in size, brilliant in color, but entirely 
uuknown to any one. As the fruit matured, the color changed from 
a light green to a rich red, and was a source of joy and admiration 
to the prisoners. The keeper's wife cautioned them against eating 
any of it, fearing, however tempting it might look, that it was poi- 
sonous. She had also promised the man who planted the seed, 
that she would be careful and preserve some specimens, should he 
return in season. 

When this strange fruit was fully ripe, the Bermuda prisoner did 
pass that way, and wished to see his plants. Finding the bushea 



THE TOMATO. 295 

hanging full of fruit, he asked for salt, pepper and vinegar, and 
astonished all lookers-on by eating this strange fruit, that had been 
thought so poisonous, with great enjoyment, as a most excellent 
saltid. 

After his repast ended, he informed those whose curiosity he had 
excited, that this fruit was the love-apple, or tomato, and was 
thought a great luxury, was used in cooking in an infinite number 
of ways, and considei-ed most healthy and nutritious. 

After his explanation, the lady carefully preserved the seeds, dis- 
tributing them among her neighbors. In this way this now most 
popular esculent, it is said, was introduced into our country. But 
for years after that, it was chiefly cultivated as an ornament in the 
garden, and seldom used for the table. After a long time, little by 
little its table merits became understood and duly ap})reciated, and 
thus it grew to be a great favorite, and its merits spread far and 
wide. 

Doubtless we have around us many things grown as an orna- 
mental shrub, or dug up as a noxious weed, that, did we but care- 
fully examine and seek proper aid for investigation, would be found 
not only beautiful, but a great addition to table luxuries; not a 
useless weed, but capable of being made valuable. No doubt many 
are carefully rooting out various kinds of fungi that spring up in a 
night, and are thought poisonous, wliile their next neighbors enjoy 
mushrooms daily. 

The ground under our Pyrus Japonica (Japan quince) is covered 
with fruit which smells very fragrant, is more acid than a lemon, 
and as hard as a potato. They leave a pleasant perfume in a room 
or drawer where we sometimes place a few ; but the rest have lain 
year after year on the ground under the shrub, and decayed. A 
lady told us that a friend had made a few into a jelly, and found it 
very good. Inquiring of one who was well informed on such points,, 
if this fruit was at all injurious, and being assured it was perfectly 
harmless, we sent a basket of the Japan quince to this fritnd to 
make the experiment, who skillfully made the jelly, and it proved 
very nice and palatable. So, perhaps, we may find in a few years 
this foreign jelly ranking among choice table luxuries. 



296 RELIEF FOB MANY HOUSEHOLD GRIEVANCES. 



BELIEF FOR MANY HOUSEHOLD GRIEY- 

ANCES. 

Even the most skillful housekeepers are not always exempt from 
many annoyances which, at times, reach over to almost every 
department that comes under their supervision and control. Keep- 
ing before their minds a high standard, by which they desire to be 
guided,- they are naturally more perplexed and disturbed at defects, 
mistakes or willful neglect than less conscientious women are. 
Among the many "lions in the way" that meet young housekeep- 
ers in unexpected corners, there are but few before which they are 
so inclined to retreat as the injuries and defacements of their house- 
hold possessions by accidental or careless stains or injuries. Rich 
glass or choice china, discolored or cracked, stains on marble, rust 
on silver or steel, mildew, fruit stains, or iron mold on bedding, 
table-linen, or any cherished article, disgust and dishearten them, 
when after many trials and exact adherence to directions, they find 
they have made no progress in renovating the articles. 

Hoping to be of some assistance, we have endeavored to collect and 
bring into as small a compass as possible some remedies for these 
grievances, but only offer those which we have successfully tried in 
similar cases. 

Before any spot or stain can be erased, it is important that one 
should learn the nature of whatever produced the blemish, and also 
that of the material injured. Any thing which, if applied, might 
erase a stain from wood or metal, might be injurious if applied to 
cloth. That which would remove the defect from linen might 
increase the trouble if used on woolens, or have no effect at all. 

Oils, grease, wax, tar, vegetable or animal juices, resinous mat- 
ter — such as pitch or tar —iron and ink spots, are difficult to remove 
completely, but ink and iron-mold the most so of all. Whenever 
much writing is done in a house, and children have free access to 
the writing-desk, books, papers and the carpet are most likely to 
bear the marks of misrule; but the injury is not irreparable. 

A weak solution oj oxalic acid, applied with a brush with great care. 



RELIEF FOR MANY HOUSEHOLD GRIEVANCES. 297 

■will remove the ink from books or papers, and in nowise injure 
them ; or, if ink is spilled on linen, cotton or any white goods, 
oxalic acid will remove it, unless dried in and of long standing. 
In that case, equal quantities of muriatic acid and tin-salt will 
remove it, but both these preparations are poisonous, and should be 
carefully labeled and kept out of the reach of children or careless 
servants. Delicate colors would be destroyed by these preparations. 
Ask the druggist for a weak solution of pyrophosphate of soda, dip 
a brush in it, and carefully wet the ink-spot, and, after several 
trials, it will remove ink from delicate colors without injuring the 
goods. Wash or sponge with clear water. 

But none of these. things can be used safely on carpets or woolen 
goods. If ink is spilled on a carpet or woolen article, it should 
be attended to at once while still wet, if possible, and then is very 
easily removed. Take clean blotting-paper or cotton-batting, and 
gently sop up all the ink that has not soaked in. Then pour a little 
sweet milk on the spot, and soak it up from the carpet with fresh 
cotton-batting. It will need to be renewed two or three times, fresh 
milk and cotton being used each time, and the spot will disappear. 
Then wash the spot with clean soap-suds, and rub dry with a clean 
cloth. If the ink has been allowed to dry in, the milk must remain 
longer, and be repeated many times. 

Bronzes require no cleaning, if kept uninjured, except careful dust- 
ing, so that no dirt shall settle to mar the beauty of the design. 
But if they unfortunately are greased or spotted, wash with warm 
.soap-suds made quite strong with soap; then gently rub, and thor- 
oughly dry. If, by accident or carelessness, the bronze is rusted and 
defaced beyond the power of soap and water to remove, the only 
safe way is to have it rebronzed, which, near a city, is not a dif- 
ficult thing. 

If marble is smoked or soiled, either by bituminous coal or too 
free use of kindling-wood, Spanish whiting, with a piece of washing- 
soda, rubbed together, and wet with only enough water to moisten 
and make it into a paste, will remove the grease and smoke. Dip 
a piece of flannel in this preparation, aud rub the spots while 
the paste is quite moist. Leave the paste on for hours, and, if 
need be, remove it and renew with fresh paste. When the spots 



298 RELIEF FOB MANY HOUSEHOLD GRIEVANCES. 

disappear, wash the place with clean hot soap-suds, wipe dry, and 
polish with chamois-skin. 

If oil or grease has been spilled on marble or stone, get fuller's- 
earth or pipe-clay, well dried and finely pulverized, make it into a 
thin paste with strong lye, put it quite thick over the spot, and 
place a warm — not too hot — flat-iron on the paste until quite dry • 
then wash it off, and, if the stain has not entirely disappeared, apply 
the paste and the warm iron once or twice more. One application „ 
washed off with strong soap-suds quite hot, is usually sufficient, un- 
less the stain is of long standing, and has soaked in. In that case it 
may require to be applied two or three times. 

Oil-marks on wall-paper, or the marks where inconsiderate people 
rest their heads, are a sore grief to good housekeepers, but they 
can be removed without much trouble. Take pipe-clay or fuller's- 
earth, and make into a paste, about as thick as rich cream, with 
cold water; lay it on the stain gently, without rubbing it in; leave 
it on all night. It will be dry by morning, when it can be brushed 
off, and unless an old stain, the grease-spot will have disappeared. 
If old, renew the application. 

Grease on a carpet, if not of long standing, can be readily dis- 
posed of by washing the spot with hot soap-suds and borax — half 
an ounce of borax to a gallon of water. Use a clean cloth to wash 
it with, rinse in warm water, and wipe dry. 

If sp&rmaceti is dropped on any garment or furniture, first care- 
fully scrape off all that can be removed without injury to the mate- 
rial; then lay brown paper over the spot, or a piece of blotting- 
paper, and put a warm iron on the paper until the oil shows through. 
Continue to renew the blotting-paper, and apply the warm iron until 
the paper shows no more oil. 

Spots on furniture, from any thing hot, or from alcohol, can be re- 
moved by rubbing hard with sweet-oil and turpentine. When the 
spots disappear, wash in milk- warm soap-suds, dry quickly, and pol- 
ish by rubbing briskly with chamois-skin. 

When velvet has been wet and becomes spotted, hold the wrong 
aide over steam, and, while damp, draw the wrong side quickly over 
a warm iron. It takes two to do this well — one to hold the bottom 
of the iron upward, and the second to draw the velvet across it. 



RELIEF FOR MANY HOUSEHOLD GRIEVANCES. 299 

Paint, pitch or tar can be removed from cloth or wood by rubbing 
it with turpentine. If the paint has bocome dry, put a few drops 
of the turpentine on the spot, and let it stand a short time ; then 
rub the spot, and if all the paint is not removed, repeat the work. 
When entirely gone, rub off with alcohol. 

Paiiit and putty can be taken off glass by wetting the glass sev- 
eral times with a strong solution of soda. Wet the glass often with 
it till the spots soften and can be washed off, and then polish with 
alcohol. 

Ivory that has been spotted, or has grown yellow, can be made 
as clear and fresh as new, by rubbing with fine sand-paper, and 
then polishing with finely-powdered pumice-stone. 

Marble can be nicely cleaned in the following manner : Pulverize 
a little bluestone, and mix with four ounces of whiting ; add to 
these four ounces of soft soap, and one ounce of soda dissolved in 
a very little water. Boil this preparation over a slow fire fifteen 
minutes, stirring all the time. Lay it on the marble while hot, 
with a clean brush. Let it remain half an hour ; then wash off 
in clean suds; wipe dry, and polish by quick rubbing. 

Grease can be removed from stone steps or passages by pouring 
on it strong soda-water boiling hot; then make fuller's-earth into a 
thin paste with boiling water ; spread it over the stain or spot, and 
let it remain all night. If the grease has soaked and dried in, it 
may be necessary to repeat this for two or three nights, scrubbing 
it off each morning with strong soap-suds and lye. When houses 
are under repair and being painted, it is important that one should 
keep watch for such oil spots, as painters are not over-careful in 
handling their oils, and such spots are very annoying. 

If ink has been spilled over rosewood or mahogany furniture, 
half a teaspoonful of oil of vitriol in a tablespoonful of water, 
applied with a feather, will quickly remove it. 



300 HOPE ON— HOPE EVER. 



HOPE ON— HOPE EVER. 

Life is so full of vicissitudes. Changes of every description 
come upon us without a moment's warning. Few could endure 
life's burdens, which are inevitable, were it not for hope ; that hope 
which will not die out of the heart, but springs up with renewed 
vigor when trials come, heavy enough, apparently, to crush it past 
resurrection. What a life that must be where hope veils her face 
and departs! 

In some of the darkest trials, when heart and flesh begin to fail, 
a ray of hope and comfort may pierce the gloom, and the aching 
heart reaches out after it, and, by touching it, gathers a little 
strength that serves to hold back the threatening destruction. That 
slight hold gives a moment's time for reflection, showing the sufierer 
that the future may have still some good in store. 

" When tides have to their lowest ebbed, 
Then they begin to flow ; 
The trees that winter's winds have stripped 
With summer's fruit bend low." 

One glimmering ray of hope, scarcely visible through the darkest 
clouds, has often wonderful power, and, if gratefully cherished, will 
grow brighter and more potent the closer those in trouble cling to 
it. Sometimes almost obscured it may be, by some additional 
strain ; but its light is never destroyed unless the worn and suflering 
turn from it in despair. 

Men engaged in large mercantile or commercial operations too 
often find they have embarked on a treacherous ocean. Adverse 
winds are driving them upon the rocks or among the breakers. All 
courage and fortitude forsake them. They see only ruin and low- 
est poverty for themselves and their families. Having tasted of the 
pleasures that riches can bring, and forgotten the long struggle be- 
fore they first attained them, they see no way but to "curse God 
and die." They look only at the ruin and disaster. They will not 
turn to where a small spark of hope is waiting for recognition. 
These are the persons who seek peace in suicide — the coward's 



FOOD FOE INFANTS. 301 

folly. They shrink from adversity, and will not find the hopeful- 
ness that would guide them back to comfort and success. 

It is often the mother, wife or daughter whose patient, cheerful 
endurance and faith begets the hope by which many a man has 
been saved from rushing uncalled into the presence of his Maker, 
bringing God's anger upon himself, and leaving his family to battle, 
as best they can, with the misfortunes his reckless, over-sanguine 
nature has brought upon them. Over-sanguine when all seems 
prosperous ; spending that which he can not afford in rash specula- 
tions, foolish pleasures, and, perhaps, not less sinful — in that kind 
of reckless geneiosity that at last takes the bread from his children's 
mouths, and wrecks home, peace and happiness, by the loss of 
needful support. Over-sanguine while blindly floating toward 
ruin; but when the crash comes, sinking into unmanly despair. 
Then, if wife and children can not hold him up, he will have no 
courage to endure with them the sorrows and trials he himself has 
brought upon them, and so steps out of this life's troubles into those 
which have no end. 

It is selfishness, cowardice or insanity only that tempts to suicide. 

True manly courage, with love and hope, will, under the worst 
misfortunes, cling to, and shield, no matter how great the agony, 
those committed to their care, and for whose peace and comfort they 
are held responsible. With these supports they can and Avill meet 
any trial bravely, and conquer in the end, because hope held them 
steadfast and strong. They have their appointed work to do, and 
though for a time it may seem all broken and unraveled, yet with 
faith and hope they will not forget that 

" God always , for a web begun, 
Is sure to find the woof." 



FOOD FOR INFANTS. 



We think few people have any clear idea of what infants suffer, 
simply from the insufficient amount of food the little helpless be- 
ings receive. Very many mothers, especially of the present period, 



302 FOOD FOR INFANTS. 

have not half the natural nourishment that a babe actually needs, 
or understand how much food is really necessary for the healthy 
development of their little ones. They don't see, when they put 
the child to the breast, that the supply is exhausted long before its 
wants are fully satisfied. The babe resolutely perseveres for a pe- 
riod sufficient to exhaust all the patience a more mature being may 
be supposed to possess; and, finding perseverance brings no returns, 
the little one throws back its head and cries. That is called being 
cross or fretful. But it is only saying, in the plainest language 
it is as yet able to command, "I am so hungry ; I don't have half 
as much food as I need." 

After two or three more ineffectual attempts to secure the amount 
that nature calls for, tired with the fruitless labor, the little martyr 
falls asleep from sheer exhaustion, and the mother says, " I think 
baby must have had the colic," and never for a moment imagines 
that it was hunger, not pain, that made the child cry. Full one- 
half the children born now do not find at the mother's breast the 
nourishment that they must have to be robust and healthy. 

Mothers, physicians and nurses — if nurses must be employed — 
can not be too vigilant in watching over the food of infants. If 
mothers would observe carefully, or experiment until certain, they 
would be astonished to learn how very small an amount of neces- 
sary food they are able to furnish themselves. This once learned, 
some substitute for mother's milk must be provided, and the child 
allowed an abundant supply ; but not surfeited. If sufficient nour- 
ishment is provided, a healthy child will as instinctively drop off 
from the breast or bottle as an older child will lay down its knife 
and fork when it has eaten all that nature demands. 

The substitute for mother's milk can be decided upon only by 
careful trial. Cow's milk, if pure, and carefully secured from one 
healthy cow, is, as a general rule, more like an infant's natural food 
than any of the numberless articles advertised and applauded. But 
many children, especially city-bred children, can not use cow's 
milk. It is very difficult to be sure of a well-fed, healthy cow in 
the city, and perhaps that may be the reason why it is so often the 
case that city children are injured by this milk. Oatmeal gruel or 
porridge, condensed milk diluted with water, imperial granum 



FOOD FOR INFANTS. 303 

made into a thin porridge, or sweet cream reduced with warm 
water, are some of the best preparations when the child can not use 
cow's milk. 

A child must not be fed with a spoon, but with a nursing-bottle, 
of which there are now an endless variety of very reliable ones. 
If fed with a spoon, it is a tedious process, not satisfactory for the 
child, and filling the stomach with wind that will surely produce 
colic. From the slowness of the operation, the child, when fed with 
a spoon, does not get the full amount that is needed. 

A child of one month old requires more than one pint of pure 
milk a day, and that amount, if it is found that cow's milk can be 
used with safety, diluted with only such a portion of hot water as 
will be needed to make the milk as warm as the mother's milk. 
Two tablespoon fuls of boiling water to a pint of cold milk, slightly 
sweetened, will give the desired temperature. A healthy child, 
one month old, will take nearly two pints of milk in twenty-four 
boui's; and many between one and two months old, without injury, 
will take more if they can get it. 

We quote a few sentences from good medical authority: 

"Not more than one mother in ten understands how much food 
a small child needs; nor more than one physician out of very many 
can tell a mother or nurse how much food should be given in twenty- 
four hours. They guess, and may say, 'a teacupful, more or less; 
or, a half pint, more or less; one-half or two-thirds water may be 
given to one-half or one-third milk.' Now, few children of one 
month old will be satisfied with one pint of pure milk daily. Many 
will take a quart; the average lies between the two." 

An infant needs from twenty-four to thirty ounces of milk or 
food daily, and will starve on three half-pints of fluid, fully one- 
half of which is usually water. An underfed infant may be easily 
distinguished. It will be peevisli, fretful, always giving signs of 
hunger. When asleep it starts and moans, and its slumbers are 
of short duration. It will k)ok pale, shriveled, be colicky, be called 
sickly, be dosed with medicine, and probably not live through the 
second year. 

"It is not unfrequent that these starving children will have their 
food still further reduced by the advice of the physician, who fears 



304 FOOD FOB INFANTS. 

the stomach is too weak to bear much food! It grows thin and 
pale, often breaks out in sores over the face, arms and legs, because, 
the physician says, its blood is impure! But the child is merely 
slowly starving, and, of course, the blood will be thin, impure and 
scanty. The little food that the puny thing receives is diluted with 
water, because the mother fears milk alone is too strong for it; and 
so the stomach is filled with this sloppy stuff; yet a sip of pure, 
cold water to cool its parched lips and feverish tongue is not 
allowed, for fear of injury. But all little ones need not only 
plenty of food, but also a little clear, cold water occasionally. 

" The major part of the colic, crying and restlessness of new-born 
infants for the first few weeks, comes chiefly from starvation. Cream 
and water will quiet and cure them far sooner than catnip, anise-seed 
or camomile-tea, or any of the carminatives or anodynes so fre- 
quently given. 

"We are sure that it is almost as easy to raise most children 
on a good supply of undiluted cow's milk as if fed from the moth- 
er's breast." 

Very few mothers are able to supply nourishment sufficient for the 
healthy growth of their children without feeding them in part from 
the bottle. In that case let the milk be entirely undiluted, save 
with, as before said, two spoonfuls of boiling water to one pint of 
milk. When necessary to use the bottle, it is wise to feed the 
child mostly during the day, letting it depend on the mother for 
what food is needed during the night. This saves the mother 
from the necessity of heating the milk and scalding the bottle dur- 
ing the night. The bottle must be well scalded every time it is 
used. If this is neglected, the child will suffer for it. When not in 
use, let the bottle, after being well washed and scalded, be filled with 
cold water, or laid, with the rubber-tube and mouth-piece together,, 
into a bowl of cold water, and set in a cool place till again needed. 

Most hard-working farmers' wives can nurse their little ones 
almost entirely without the aid of a bottle or any food — besides^ 
what nature gives a country mother strength to provide herself. 
But the wear and tear of city life, its excitements, dissipation and 
nervous exhaustion are not conductive to that physical strengths 
which promises healthy, robust infants. 



UR DA UGHTERS AS HO USEKEEPERS. 305 



HOW TO MAKE OUR DAUGHTERS SENSH3LE 
HOUSEKEEPERS. 

• It is often annoying, and always a liinderance for an active, 
energetic, metliodical mother to teach her daughters how to perform 
home duties correctly — particularly when she begins at an early 
age to put into their care such portions of necessary household 
labor as they have strength to undertake, and patiently, as the 
months and years roll by, teach them, step by step, how to manage 
such duties successfully. Such teaching with very young pupils 
will retard her own work inevitably, derange often well-establi.shed 
rules, and thereby cause much confusion, and possibly the early 
attempt may be attended with some woeful mishap, such as a be- 
ginner can hardly be expected to avoid. 

A mothei-'s unselfish love, and the knowledge that all these sacri- 
fices of time and her own comfort are building her daughters- 
up, and preparing them for future usefulness, will enable true 
mothers to accept these duties, so near akin to a cross, and teach 
them to find in the prospect of the good to be secured that every 
step of the way brings its own rich reward ; even though the 
mother knows that the first lesson, when partially mastered, will 
only pave the way for a higher and more important effort, which 
must more and more tax her skill in teaching, yet, as she sees in- 
dications of progress, the cross presses more lightly, and soon be- 
comes a pleasure, and in the end a crown. 

But, unfortunately, many mothers do not recognize the duty of 
thus teaching their children, and are impatient of that restraint 
which these eff'orts must bring upon themselves ; and, by such sel- 
fish disregard of a sacred duty, forfeit the great reward. We have 
known mothers who are so particular that they will not allow their 
girls to share in their labors, or intrust to them any of their cares. 
This is a great injury to the mothers often, and a cruel defrauding 
of the children. Most girls, if permitted to be with their mothers 
when in the kitchen almost from babyhood, love to see the work 
done, particularly the cooking; and nothing delights them more 

20 



306 UR DA UGHTERS AS HO USEKEEPERS. 

than to be allowed to attempt to make some simple article them- 
selves. And this early play will in the end be a lesson not easily for-' 
gotten. Rest assured that girls who grow up under such training, 
or indulgence, will have no fear of the real care when it comes to 
them as a duty. They are not the ones who will urge their hus- 
bands to board, from the dread of the cares of housekeeping; but 
invariably — we know no exception — will make good housewives, 
with the best prospects of a happy home. 

We know mothers who freely instruct their very young girls how 
to make bread, and allow them, at least once a week, to have a 
loaf of their own baking on the table. Then they are sometimes 
allowed to make some simple cake, receiving as they proceed the 
most easy and simple directions from their mother. 

As girls pass into their teens, some most sensible mothers 
give each daughter the full care of the housekeeping, for a 
week at a time, of course, guided by their mother's supervision 
and judgment, as to the marketing and expenditure. This is an 
excellent arrangement, and one of the most important items in 
their education. There is no greater mistake than feeling that 
domestic labor, when necessary, or the knowledge of it in all positions, 
must be incompatible with the highest degree of mental culture or 
refinement. No women stand so high in position or elegant accom- 
plishments, as those who honor themselves and their husbands, by 
a thorough knowledge and oversight of all domestic duties. 

No one can hope to hire those who will bring the best taste, the 
nicest attention to order, neatness and economy in little things, into 
the kitchen, together with a correct knowledge of preparing the 
simplest meal in a beautiful and attractive manner ; and yet all 
these united have a wonderful power toward making home-life 
happy and prosperous. And the absence of these charms — care- 
less housekeeping, an untidy and unattractive home and poor cook- 
ing have driven many a husband to seek comfort and happiness 
elsewhere. Those things which constitute the true charm of a 
home can not be bought or secured by the labor of hirelings. It 
is only the mistress of the house, the wife and mother, through her 
love and union of interest with her husband and children, who, guided 
by her affection, will labor to bring that charm about her household 



HARBINGERS OF SPRING. 307 

"which springs from systematic labor, scrupulous neatness and 
economy, a finely-appointed table, with food daintily prepared and 
served with exquisite taste. No lady of the highest talent or ac- 
complishments need feel that she demeans herself by giving her most 
earnest attention to the beauty and comfort of her home and the 
careful ordering of every thing coimected with the kitchen depart- 
ment. Low down as foolish ideas of gentility have been accustomed 
to place that department, it has much more to do with the comfort 
or discomfort, the peace and happiness, or the discord and evil 
temper, of the whole fimily than can be gained from elegant or 
fashionable parties, and all that etiquette demands in fashionable 
life. No girl, whether from the lowest or the highest position, is 
fit to become a wife — a mistress of the home — who has not been 
carefully educated in all the accomplishments and details of the 
kitchen. 



HARBINGERS OF SPRING. 

Few animate or inanimate things respond so quickly to the first 
■warm sunny days of spring as the apparently insignificant but 
most efficient and untiring moth. In furnace-heated houses they 
sometimes evade the most watchful housekeeper, and are seen 
flying about a warm and well-lighted room, even in midwinter. 
They are comparatively harmless at that early period ; b^ut should, 
nevertheless, be watched and destroyed without compunction. They 
are no cowardly disturbers of the peace, however, but make their 
surveys like experienced commanders, in preparation for the con- 
templated spring invasion, in a bold, defiant manner, as if certain 
of victory. 

Though not harmful in the winter, no wise woman will fail to 
repel their first approach, and destroy them promptly before they 
reach the mischievous age. Every moth killed in midwinter is 
clear gain, even if not at first perceptible. 

In April one begins to realize that the moth is very much in 



308 HARBINGERS OF SPRING. 

earnest, and it behooves the mistress of the house to be equally so^ 
watching for their approach with strictest vigilance. When the 
gas is lighted, the brightness tempts them into the room, and lures- 
them on to destruction. Now is the time to be on the alert. All 
that the flames spare, should find active hands ready to trap and 
kill them. They are such delicate, pretty little things, this seems 
cruel ; but, because they look incapable of harm, neither books nor 
work should so absorb one that, just for once even, they can be 
permitted to escape. 

House-moths often leave their eggs in the carved work and open 
spaces in celling and cornices, as well as in carpets, furs and every 
other possible hiding-place. One of the many discomforts of high- 
studded rooms is the safe retreats they provide for moths and that 
most oflensive of all vermin, the bed-bug. Such ceilings are sa 
high up, so difficult of approach, that few women feel quite safe 
when obliged to mount the topmost step of a tall ladder to gain 
access to the hiding-places. And yet some one must do it. A 
man, not accustomed to such haunts, would hardly know how to do 
the work as thoroughly ; but early in the spring, when the regular 
house-cleaning must be attended to, it is very desirable to engage 
a workman accustomed to ladder-work, and with the capacity of 
using a brush successfully. Let him take a dust-pan and small, 
stiff whisk-broom, and a pointed one also, such as is used to brush 
round the buttons of tufted furniture, and thoroughly brush out 
all the dust that may have settled in these open spots; for moths 
and bugs are grateful for all the loose lint and dust that a house- 
keeper allows to settle in such cracks or fissures, where they can 
build their nests and deposit their eggs. 

When all the lint and dust have been removed — as far as. pos- 
sible — and burned, take a soft cloth, saturate it thoroughly with 
kerosene, and rub it into all the places where dust has accumulated 
and where vermin usually resort. Leave kerosene on for a day or 
two before beginning the washing and scrubbing, and, if the appli- 
cation can be repeated two or three times, it will be all the more 
effectual. After it has remained on a day or two, as each room is 
cleaned, these parts must be well Avashed with hot soap-suds. When 
dry, take a small bellows, fill with Persian insect-powder — the 



ft 
HARBINGERS OF SPRING. 309 

geuuine article (Pyrethrum roseum) — and blow it into all the hiding- 
places, and it will prove more effectual than any thing else. It will 
soon relieve the housekeeper of files as well as moths. Shut the 
windows and doors, and blow this powder over the windows, and 
fill the air with it. Close the door for half an hour, and, on enter- 
ing the room after that, you will find the flies lying on floors and 
windows, dead or dying. 

If this work has been done perfectly during house-cleaning, these 
j^laces may generally be kept clean by using one of those very long- 
handled, stiff, round brushes called " Popes' heads." This saves 
the necessity of climbing the ladder every day, or two or three 
times a week; and, in the morning's sweeping and dusting, a strong 
girl can easily reach them, and occupy very little time. 

A long-pointed brush is also a great help in removing spiders' 
webs, and bringing these industrious weavers within easy reach ; 
for though spiders are not as destructive as the moth, or as offensive 
as some other of the vermin that infest houses, they are never very 
highly esteemed by good housekeepers. If nothing better is access- 
ible, a long-pointed stick, wet in kerosene, is useful to destroy the 
■eggs ; kerosene being also highly recommended, and on good au- 
thority, as one of the best agents to destroy moths and protect 
woolen goods. Such a stick will penetrate and clean out crevices 
that the long brush can not reach. 

At least once a week the edges and corners of carpets and the 
folds and buttons of furniture need careful examination. These are 
also favorite hiding-places for the moth, and where they go to de- 
posit their eggs. Some months since we were told how freely kero- 
sene was used in dislodging vermin, and also in putting away articles 
that can be injured by them. We confess we were hardly able to 
credit it. The lady said that a friend packed her blankets in a 
tight box or trunk, and, pouring kerosene ov#r all by the quart, 
fastened up the trunk till the next fall, when she found every 
article in perfect condition, free from all smell, and in nowii^e 
spotted or greased by the kerosene ; that she also put away furs, 
nice dresses, all that one is accustomed to pack with great care, 
and, covering them with a sheet, poured over a large quantity of 
kerosene. Every thing, the next fall, was perfectly uninjured by 



310 THE KITCHEN. 

moths, and entirely unspotted by the kerosene, and with none of the 
offensive smell which one expects will be perceptible on any thing 
that this oil has touched. The authority from which we received 
this statement is such, that we can not question its correctness; but 
as we have never tried it ourselves, we can only request our readers 
to give it a fair trial at first, on articles of no great worth, until 
they are convinced of either its truith or fallacy. If correct, it is 
astonishing, but something that will be a great relief to all house- 
keepers. 



THE KITCHEIT. 



Does the mistress of the house — evtn one inclined to be very 
thorough — really know in what condition all pertaining to the 
kitchen is kept, when she only gives it her general superintendence, 
without taking hold, now and then, of some of the manual labor ? 
Would it not be well for those employed, to know that, at such a 
time as they least expected, the hand of the mistress, as well as 
her eyes, would be known, not only in the kitchen, but in every 
department of the house? Those who are justly esteemed our best 
housekeepers, are doubtless frequent visitors to all the varied labors 
of the household. They do not send for cook, waitress or laundress 
to come to their parlor or chamber to receive the orders for the 
day. That is a lazy, shiftless way of pretending to do that for 
which a mistress of a family — the housekeeper — is especially 
needed. 

If the servants are to have unlimited control of the different 
sections of household labor, which their respective duties assign 
them, only going to their employer's rooms to learn what is to be 
ordered for dinner, or how many the table is to be arranged for, 
a housekeeper seems to us somewhat of an incumbrance; at any 
rate, more ornamental than useful. Many of our best housewives 
are scrupulously careful, and most conscientiously go from kitchen 
to dining-room, from dining-room to laundry, giving the plan for 



THE KITCHEN. 311 

each girl's day's work, and are sure they have taken careful note 
of the condition of each apartment and the articles belonging to 
them. Returning to their sitting-room, they say to themselves : 

"Well, all things considered, the girls manage to keep their 
separate departments in comfortable order. Of course, there are 
here and there points one could wish more carefully attended to ; 
but cook would, perhaps, leave without a moment's warning were I 
to speak of any imperfection. The waitr^s, I know, would ; and 
if laundress did not follow their lead, she'd ' sulk' for a week. So I 
think I am wise to take no notice of such short-comings." 

Yes ; there are doubtless cases where it may be wisest to shut 
one's mouth, if not the eyes, rather than lose a passably good serv- 
ant. But, surely, this is wisdom only in cases of sickness, or 'a 
house so full of company that one is compelled to endure inefficient 
or slack performance of duties — but only for the time being; or, 
most important of all, when the lady's own health is so frail that 
it would be injurious to risk losing even very poor servants. 

This last case, above all others, is ample excuse for a house- 
keeper to overlook a multitude of sins. It is but the choice be- 
tween two evils — poor help, or breaking up the home and boarding. 
The first is by far the lesser evil. Better die than try the latter. 
There can be no home in a boarding-house. 

But for a lady in good health, strong enough to spend her days 
shopping or in picture-galleries examining the choicest works of 
art, on her feet all day in this toil of pleasure, to which the 
hardest day's work in kitchen or laundry is but child's-play— her 
evenings also, 'way into the small hours, spent at concerts, theaters 
or operas, with no complaints of excessive fatigue or physical injury; 
for such an one to fear to notice gross neglect and carelessness, lest 
the unfaithful servant should leave her, is the most inexcusable 
cowardice. 

That class of servants are not the kind who are likely to wish ta 
tarry long in any place. However blind and easy the mistress may 
be, the time soon comes when from no reproof, from no cause what- 
ever but the desire to change, they leave, on short notice, and usu- 
ally at the most inconvenient time. 

A good housekeeper may for a moment shrink from rolling up 



312 THE KITCHEN. 

her sleeves, putting on a real work-apron, and taking hold of the 
kitchen work in earnest. But not for long. Putting one's hands 
to the work reveals such gross neglect, and the absolute necessity 
that there would soon have been for a change, far better than any 
supervision can do. Passing round among the work, stepping into 
closets or store-rooms while doing some light work for cake or des- 
serts, can not enable the mistress to estimate the true way in which 
her work is done. One%ho has not done any rough manual labor 
for months, perhaps years, may not willingly bend to the work, if 
by any rebuke for carelessness her servants leave her. For a day 
or two, when she first finds herself alone, all must seem strange and 
the work hard. She will make many mistakes and feel half discour- 
aged. Her hands, long exempt from the rough toil, will be stiff- 
ened and sore from handling iron-ware, the scrub-brush, or washing 
dishes in hot suds. But this will not annoy her long. Soon she 
sees the great change a few hours of well-applied labor can make 
in pantries, dish-closets — and particularly in the dishes themselves — 
and then she begins to find solid pleasure in her work. 

The perfectly washed dish, polished with a spotlessly clean and 
dry towel, is a joy to look upon. The silver takes on new luster, 
the glass is as brilliant as crystal, and holding it up to see if any 
mote or speck or lint remains, if the lady sees only the clear, 
transparent glass shining like crystal, no wonder her face lights 
up with a real and far more satisfying pleasure than she has ever 
felt in the finest work of art — because this freshening up and ren- 
ovating every thing over the house is the work of her own hands, 
well and faithfully done. 

When at last, from attic to cellar, order and scrupulous neatness 
reign, how much more a good housewife shrinks from bringing in 
''help" than she ever did from losing them ! Such loss she has 
found her exceeding gain. 

But she knows other duties have a claim on her time and 
strength, and, as a matter of duty, she must look for help. How 
firmly she resolves that, in superintending her servants hereafter, 
she will be sure that nothing shall escape her notice. She will never 
allow herself to form her judgment of the efficiency or faithfulness 
of those in her employ by trusting simply to her eyes. This last 



THE KITCHEN. 313 

experience has clearly shown her that the eye will never so readily 
or truly detect neglect or deceit as the hands. So she will con- 
stantly say to herself : 

"These dishes look well. Yes; but let me take them in my 
hand. I shall easily know if they have been well washed and per- 
fectly polished with a dry towel. The top may be clean. Is the 
bottom of the plate equally so? or, shall I find it sticky, because 
wiped with a damp — not overclean —cloth?" 

Kettles and tin may look clean, and may have been well dried on 
the side of the range, or in the sun before putting away. Ah ! 
take them up ; pass the finger round the rim or binding, or where 
the handle or bail is attached to the kettle. How greasy ! Tiie 
inside seems clean, why should the outside be so important ? Be- 
cause, in a day or two, if neglected, there will be found a constant 
accumulation of greasy particles where ashes from the grate will 
lodge, and an ugly crust of this deposit will soon give an unpleas- 
ant, rancid taste to any food cooked therein, however clean the 
inside may be. 

In no one article is this so apparent as in the pans used to bake 
bread or cake in. If not carefully washed, and as faithfully dried, 
so that no semblance or odor of grease can be discovered about the 
rim, inside or out, the undercrust and sides of bread or cake can not 
fail to have an impure, unpleasant taste and smell. In sheet-iron 
pans it is more noticeable than in tin. ^ 

All this a housekeeper who has had the pleasure of working with- 
out any so-called help for a week or two, until every utensil and 
arrangement about the house is in perfect order, will bear in mind 
when, at last, she finds other duties must compel her once more to 
resort to these incumbrances, and she will most resolutely deter- 
mine that the work henceforth shall be so faithfully watched that 
never again will she be obliged to have so much to clean up after any 
girl. Happy the woman who does not find outside calls engross her 
time so thoroughly the moment she turns the kitchen Avork over to 
another, that many small things, here and there, will have escaped 
her notice. To what proportions will those small items have grown 
when next she is left alone? 



314 BREAD AND ITS MATERIALS, 



BREAD, AND THE MATERIALS FROM WHICH 
IT HAS BEEN MADE. 

From the period when mankind was compelled to provide for^ 
and prepare their food, and learned that something more nutritious 
could be found than the fruits, roots and herbs that grew about them, 
bread from various materials was considered to be, not a luxury 
merely, but an indispensable necessity. 

" In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread," is the first men- 
tion of bread that we have been able to find ; for, until Eden was. 
closed against mankind, fruits and seeds, or nuts and berries, were 
all the food required. There was no necessity for cultivating 
grain, vegetables or fruits, and animals were not slain to sustain 
human life. 

Bread is for the second time spoken of in Gen. xiv, 18, when Abra- 
ham pursued after those who had despoiled his brother Lot, and 
taken him prisoner. On his triumphant return, the King of Salem 
and priest of the Most High God, Melchizedek, went out to meet 
Abraham, and set before him bread and wine, and blessed him. 

Again, Gen. xviii, 5, when sitting in the door of his tent, on the 
plains of Mamre, when the three angels stood before him, with 
that hospitality which, as with the Arabs, immediately on greeting 
a guest first provides water to wash the feet and then prepares food, 
Abraham, offering water, said : ' ' Wash your feet, and I will fetch 
a morsel of bread ; and comfort ye your hearts." 

When Hagar was driven out into the wilderness, Abraham took 
bread and gave her, etc. 

After this, bread is frequently mentioned in the Old Testament, 
and was evidently highly esteemed as that "which strengtheneth 
man's heart." The shew-bread, twelve loaves of which was one of 
the sacred offerings, was placed in the outer court of the Jewish 
sanctuary, to remain there untouched one day, and the next to be 
eaten by the priests only. If the people were disobedient and stiff"- 
necked, the Lord threatened to break the staff* of their bread: "I 
"will break the staff" of bread in Jeruselem, and they shall eat 



BREAD AND ITS MATERIALS. 315 

bread by weight and with care ; " "I will increase the famine in the 
land, and will break your staff of bread," or destroy the grain from 
which their bread was made. This shows how important this part 
of their provision was in the estimation of the Jews. 

Of all food to which civilized or even the semi-barbarous nations 
have turned for support, none has been so universally in use, and 
thought so indispensable as this, from whatever made, or however 
rudely manufactured. Whatever grain the ancients of all coun- 
tries employed, we can not learn with sufficient certainty. We know 
that many things were used that we should decidedly object to if 
offered to any of us in place of the wheat, rye and corn bread that we 
are so well acquainted with. To this day, in countries where our 
grains can not be raised or easily procured, the people find some 
substitute which they make into bread. 

Earth-bread is majde from a white earth in upper Lusatia, formerly 
a part of Germany, but now under the rule of Prussia ; and the 
poor of that region to this day use this bread in times of scarcity. 
The earth is dug from a hill where saltpeter was once manufac- 
tured. When laid in the sun and heated, it cracks, and globules, 
like meal, exude from it. These are mixed with a little flour, and 
soon ferment, and it is then baked. Probably there is some salt- 
peter or soda in the earth which gives it lightness. Something 
similar to it is found in Catalonia, and also used for bread. It is 
affirmed that in cases of great need many have lived on this bread 
for weeks without experiencing any injury. 

Fish-bread is still used in Iceland, Lapland, Crim-Tartary, and 
other places far north. The fish is dried, then beaten to fine pow- 
der, and sometimes the inner bark of some of the trees of that region 
is mixed with it, and then wet and made into bread and cakes. 

Moss-bread is much used in Iceland, and considered very nutri- 
tive. The lichen or reindeer moss contains a good deal of starch. 
The moss is gathered in the summer, thoroughly dried and ground 
into meal, and bread, gruels and pottage are made from it. It is 
sometimes boiled in milk or whey till it becomes a jelly. 

Banana-bread. All classes of people in the West Indies are fond 
of bananas, and particularly when made into br^ad. The ripe fruit 
is rubbed through a sieve, and then formed into a loaf and baked 



316 BREAD AND ITS MATERIALS. 

in hot ashes, or dried in the sun. Before baking, it is wrapped in 
some of the banana-leaves. It is always provided by the people for 
long voyages. 

Plantain-bread is made from the fruit of the plantain-tree. The 
fruit is about a foot long, two inches wide, has a thick, tough skin, 
containing a soft pulpy flesh, quite sweet, and soon becomes agree- 
able to all. The fruit is gathered green, the skin taken off, and the 
pulp roasted on a clear coal-fire a short time, then grated and made 
into loaves and served up as bread, or used dry like grated cheese. 
The plantain is very largely cultivated in Jamaica, and is a native 
of Asia. No kind of provision, it is said, could supply the place of 
plantain-bread. The natives think it far preferable to wheaten 
bread, or the prepared bread-fruit from the bread -tree. 

Cassava-bread is made from the root called Jatropa-maniat, found 
in the Caribbee Islands. The juice is a deadly poison, and used by 
the Indians to poison their arrows; but the bread from the pulp of 
the root, after the poison has been extracted, is much used by the 
natives, and also by many others where the root is raised. We 
have eaten it at the South, and found it quite palatable. The root 
is well cleaned and scraped, finely grated, and then put in a sack 
made loosely of rushes. This is hung from a cross-bar over a tree, 
or two forked sticks, and a heavy weight put upon the grated pulp, 
with a vessel beneath the sack to receive the poisonous juice. 
When the pulp is pressed dry it is like starch, and placed over 
smoke to dry it becomes harmless. Then it is passed through a sieve, 
and kept dry till needed. It is now called cassava. When made 
into bread or cake it is baked by laying it on hot iron plates or on 
hot earth. Tapioca is made from the finest part of this root, col- 
lected and made into the irregular globules or tears, as the natives 
call them, by straining the whole mass while yet moist. 

Sago-bread is made from the roots of the sago-tree, which grows 
in the islands of Banda and Amboyna, in the Malay Archipelago, 
the latter being one of the most important, though not the largest, 
of the Moluccas or Spice Islands. Indian corn has been of late 
years introduced, and, together with the sago, forms the most im- 
portant part of the food used by the Malays. The sago-tree is cut 
into small pieces, which are bruised and beaten in a mortar; then 



BREAD A^'D ITS MATERIALS. 317 

water is poured over it, and left undisturbed for some hours, while 
the pithy matter, which is the meal or sago, settles. When this is 
accomplished the water is poured off, and the meal dried, then formed 
into cakes, or fermented and made into bread. Those who have vis- 
ited those islands, and eaten of the bread as made by the natives, 
pronounce it almost as good as our wheaten bread. The trunk of 
a single sago-tree will yield 600 pounds of sago, and 430 trees can 
be planted on one acre of ground, producing 120,500 pounds. 

The Hottentots make their bread from another variety of tlie 
sago-tree. They collect the pith from the wood, and tie it up in a 
calf or sheep skin that has been well dressed, and bury it for several 
weeks in the ground. This makes the pith tender and mellow, 
when it is made into cakes or thin loaves of bread, and baked under 
hot embers. Sometimes this pith is roasted, and then made into a 
porridge. The pith of this variety of sago-tree is that used in com- 
merce — granulated by being passed through a sieve while still 
moist. 

The bread-fruit tree grows in the South Sea Islands. The tree is 
about the size of a well-grown oak; the leaves are of oblong shape, 
sometimes a foot and a half long, about as thick as a fig-leaf, and 
of the same color, though not the same shape, and veined or marked 
like it. The fruit is wrinkled something like the truffle, and about 
as large as a good-sized egg-plant. The skin is thin. There is a 
core inside about the size of a finger. The part used as bread lies 
between the skin and core, is very white, and very like new bread 
in appearance. 

To prepare the fruit for use as bread, it is roasled whole or cut 
into small pieces. When baked in an oven it becomes soft, and is 
something like a boiled potato, though not as good as a first-rate 
mealy one. 

The Otaheitans have three modes of using the bread-fruit. When 
ripe they put milk or cocoa-nut milk to it, and beat it to a paste 
with a stone-pestle. It is then mixed with ripe plantains or with 
bananas. 



318 BREAD MADE FROM CEREALS. 



BREAD MADE FROM CEREALS. 

Having given the history of bread, we will now endeavor to trace 
its manufacture out of the various cereals or grains that were sub- 
stituted in the place of the various combinations, from the begin- 
ning to the present time. 

The goddess Ceres was supposed to preside over all kinds of grains 
or cereals, and Pan is mentioned by a few authorities as the inventor 
and god of bread, although we find very few who indorse that 
theory. The Greeks, however, deified all discoverers; but bread 
was known by the Chaldeans, Egyptians and Israelites long before 
these Greek traditions w6re known. The word bread signifies some- 
thing "brayed" or pounded in a mortar: thus brayed wheat, or 
wheat-bread; brayed oats, or oat-bread. It was formerly spelled 
brede. Dough is derived from the Anglo-Saxon word " deawian,' 
to wet or moisten. So dough, or dow, means wetted, and, there- 
fore, bread, or brayed corn or grain, by being moistened or wet, 
becomes dough. Loaf comes from the Anglo-Saxon word " hlifian," 
to raise or lift up. So bread, or brayed corn, being wetted, be- 
comes dough, and leaven, or yeast, being added, it becomes loaf, or 
raided bread. 

Even after, grains of various kinds were cultivated in a rude 
way, and used for food, the art of making or baking bread was 
unknown to many nations, and the grains, pease and beans were 
made into porridge, no other use of this meal — which was ground 
in their rude mills — being known. It was long before the Romans 
had learned the art, except only so far as to make unleavened 
bread or cakes. 

Bread made into loaves — that is, raised bread — is, to this day, sel- 
dom seen in Northern Europe and Asia, except among the rich or the 
nobility. In the Swedish towns and cities, bread or loaves are com- 
mon, but not among the lower classes and the country people. At 
one time the captain of an English vessel requested a baker of Got- 
tenburg to bake a large quantity of loaves, or raised bread. The 
baker refused to undertake an order of such magnitude, saying it 



BREAD MADE FROM CEREALS. 319. 

would be quite impossible to dispose of such an immense order, 
until the captain agreed to carry off with hira and pay for all that 
were not disp(jsed of during the time his vessel was in harbor. 

At first, as bread from grain began to find its way among nmny dif- 
ferent nations, the Asiatics introduced the custom of sweetening all 
kinds of bread, and the Romans received their first ideas of making 
bread from them, and carried some of their bakers to Rome to intro- 
duce their art among their people ; but even then most of the 
bread used in all countries was unleavened. At what period fer- 
mented — leavened or raised — bread was first discovered, or by whom, 
we can not learn; and for years, even after many kinds of grain 
were in common use, raising the bread Avas not understood. It was 
known to the Israelites, the Egyptians and Grecians, but was not 
known in Rome until two hundred years Ifefore the Christian era. 
They first learned of it during their war with Macedon. At the 
close of that war a few of the Grecian bakers were persuaded to go 
to Rome and practice their art among that people. The bakers 
were higlily esteemed. In the reign of Augustus, that Emperor 
caused many bake-houses to be erected, and placed them under the 
control of the Grecian bakers. Many privileges were granted them, 
and the public granaries were placed in their charge. 

From Rome this art found its way into Gaul; but its progress in 
the northern parts of Europe was very slow. There is reason to 
believe that some of the ancient people had also a little knowledge 
of the manufacture and general use of yeast — leaven being the 
nearest approach to it — and that in its crudest forms. But any 
such innovation on old customs or invention, must run through a 
long period before it will be accepted and adopted universally. It 
was not until nearly the close of the seventeenth century that yeast 
became commonly, almost universally, used throughout Northern 
Europe. It was about this time that the bakers of Paris brought 
yeast from Flanders as a substitute for leaven. But even then it 
was not accepted without a long and tedious struggle. Although 
none could deny that the bread made with the help of yeast was 
very greatly superior to any before seen in Paris, the French gov- 
ernment forbade the use of yeast, because the College of Physicians 
affirmed, in 1688, that it was injurious to the health. But this 



320 BREAD MADE FROM THE CEREALS. 

prohibition was evaded. The yeast was made in Flanders, and put 
into sacks until the moisture was all drained off", when it was brought 
dry into Paris privately. The superiority of yeast-bread was soon 
recognized ; the learned assertions of the medical faculty were for- 
gotten; and as the bakers continued to make the bread, without at- 
tempting discussion, the laws against the use of yeast very soon 
passed out of mind, and no one seemed inclined to remind the law- 
givers of them; and, from this, yeast-bread found its way at last into 
parts of every country. 

Leaven is simply a little dough set aside till it sours, or a piece 
left from the last baking. If this piece of sour dough is rubbed into 
the flour for the next baking, and the whole wet and kneaded to- 
gether, after awhile the sour dough or leaven will act as yeast, and 
cause the whole mass of dough to rise. Very excellent bread can 
be made with leaven if, before kneading it with, and thoroughly in- 
corporating it in the dough, a little soda is dissolved in cold water, 
and worked into the leaven or piece of sour dough. This sweetens 
it, and aids it to rise in less time. But with the ancients this mode 
of sweetening the dough or leaven was not known, consequently 
their bread — although much of the acid was destroyed or thrown 
off by baking — could never have the sweet, pure taste that good 
yeast-bread should always have. 

With all the light that has been given since the seventeenth 
century — and the learning and experience that through all these 
years have been accumulating — it would seem that poor bread 
should soon be so entirely a thing of the past that the idea would 
be like one of the olden myths. But poor bread is far more com- 
mon than the perfect bread, which could be so easily made if those 
who have the charge of it would learn the true way in youth and 
follow the best rules exactly. No rule is worth giving which is not 
worth following to the letter. Home-made bread should always be 
the best, because there should be no temptation to adulterate or 
combine foreign articles with the flour. Public bakers are often 
tempted to mix substances that may make their bread look nicer, 
but are really a great injury. Alum is often used to increase the 
whiteness of the bread, and, by so doing, enable the bakers to use 
an inferior quality of flour. But alum is injurious to the health. 



BREAD MADE FROM THE CEREALS. 321 

After long use it deranges the stomach, producing dyspepsia and 
many other irregularities in the system. 

(jood bread can not be made from new flour. It certainly 
should not be used till a few weeks old, and some insist that it 
siiould be several months, or even a year old, before using. We 
think that is altogether too old. If too old, the sweetest, best 
quality of flour will deteriorate, and, if not musty, will at least 
have a stale, old taste, not at all agreeable. 

But whether baked at home or in a public bakery, really good 
bread can not be had unless attention is paid to the work by one 
whose judgment can be depended on. There are three points that 
demand the best care and skill, and upon which the nature of the 
bread will depend : First, the quality of the flour used ; secondly, 
the quality of the yeast; and, thirdly, the skill and care of the 
baker. To judge of good flour, take up a pinch between the thumb 
and forefinger, press it closely between the fingers, and at the same 
time rub it gently between the fingers so as to give a full surface;, 
and this rubbing and pinching will show the true color. If it feels; 
loose and lively in the hand, one may safely count it as of goodl 
quality. If it is clammy, damp or dead to the touch, it is unmis- 
takably bad flour. 

Experience and experiment sooii teach one to judge of good 
yeast; and these two are the only reliable teachers in the matter.. 
If the yeast gets sour, it will not, by any remedy, enable one to make 
the best of bread. If it is too bitter, or leaves a bitter flavor in the 
bread, it can be remedied. In this case pour on a good quantity- 
of water, let it stand several hours, and the thick part or substance 
of the yeast will settle at the bottom. Then drain off" all the water, 
which will have taken up the bitter property of the yeast, when 
the thick part can be used without any injury to the bread. A lit- 
tle soda will correct acidity in bread, but it takes off" much of the 
pure, sweet taste of good flour, which is the most desirable quality 
in bread. 

Salt is always necessary in making good bread. The dough will 
rise better for it, and it gives a better flavor to the bread, which 
otherwise might have a somewhat insipid, raw taste. But the great 
mistake, we think, is in using too much salt. When no more than 

21 



322 SELFISHNESS AND RUDENESS AT THE TABLE. 

one or two teaspoonfuls should be used, many of the receipts will 
direct that there should be "a handful" — rather indefinite, as there 
is much difference in the size of the hand; or some will call for one 
or two great spoonfuls. For a common family-baking that is 
altogether too much, destroying all taste but of salt. 

No invention for ovens has yet given us any that will secure, in 
the family, such perfect baking as the old brick ovens. Of course, 
similar ovens used in public i bakeries will give the desirable ex- 
cellence; and those who live near a bakery can avail themselves of 
such locality, and have bread and cake baked in them. But, when 
baking bread in a stove or range, more skill and watchfulness are 
required; a little too much heat, or too little, will injure, if not 
ruin, a whole baking. 



SELFISHNESS AND RUDENESS AT THE TABLE. 

Among the small things which, if unchecked, would prove life- 
long annoyances, none are more conspicuous or more disagreeable, 
than the rude, boorish, selfish habits so fi-equently developed in the 
conduct of children at the table. Here, as in all that is connected 
with the early training and education of children, parents should 
realize that they will be held accountable, in a large measure, if 
those committed to their care and guidance grow up with careless 
and reprehensible table-manners. 

If parents commence in season, it is not hard to teach any child 
old enough to be brought to the table (and that, we think, should 
be as soon as they can be taught to feed themselves, if only with 
a spoon), to be quiet, and wait patiently until the older ones are 
served, instead of allowing the child to call for its portion the mo- 
ment it is seated, and, if delayed, demand something vociferously, 
emphasizing its wishes with loud screams and violent blows on the 
table and dishes. If this mode of gaining its own way is at- 
tempted, and the parent removes the little tyrant from the tablo 
for a short season of private admonition, the discipline will be found 



SELFISHNESS AND RUDENESS AT THE TABLE. 323 

efficacious, and will not require repeating often. Of course, this 
will interrupt, for a few moments, the pleasant harmony which 
should be the crownmg pleasure of each meal. But it will not re- 
cur often, and is a small price to pay for the comfort and honor 
of having our children become well-mannered, pleasant table- 
companions. 

Of course we would not advocate bringing very young children 
to the table when one has company. That would not be courteous 
or respectful to guests. But wlien only the family are present we 
think the earlier children are taught to sit at the table with par- 
ents, brothers and sisters, and behave properly, the more surely 
will they secure good, refined table-uianners. 

It is not difficult to teach a very young child to make its wants 
quietly known to the proper person, and at the proper time. But 
what can be more uncomfortable and annoying than to sit at a 
table where the children, from the oldest to the youngest, are the 
dominant power, never waiting patiently for their turn to be 
helped, but calling h)udly for whatever they desire, impatient if it 
is not brought to them on the instant? If attention is not given 
as soon as the wofds are out of his mouth, how unpleasant to see 
a child standing on the rounds of the chair, or reaching over other 
j^lates to help himself to whatever he desires! Parents can, with 
very little trouble to themselves, save their guests from witnessing 
such rudeness if they begin when every habit is yet unformed. 

As soon as a child can speak, he can be taught to ask for what 
he needs in a gentle, respectful manner, when requiring service of 
the nurses or the waiter, as well as of his parents and superiors. 
"Please push my chair up closer." " Please give me some water." 
" Please pass the bread." And when the request is complied with, 
accept it and say, "Thank you." What hardship is there in requir- 
ing this from children just beginning to talk, as well as from older 
lads and lassies? It will require but a very few repetitions of the 
lesson for the youngest to understand that it is the only way by 
■which their wishes will be complied with ; and it is surprising to see 
how soon this mode of calling attention to their wants becomes as 
easy and natural as breathing. Parents are culpable who do not 



324 SELFISHNESS AND RUDENESS AT THE TABLE. 

give their children the advantage of such instruction, and enforce 
it until they have no idea of asking in any other way. 

And yet how many give no. heed to this duty! How many hear 
their young charges calling impatiently or arrogantly, " Give me 
the butter, Jane!" " Pass the bread this way.". "Can't you hear, 
Jane ? I've told you two or three times to give me some water." 
Or some may soften their imperious demands a little, by saying, 
" I'll take the bread, please ; " or, " Hand me the salt, Jane, please ; " 
but the "please" is too far off to be very pleasant. It seems an 
after-thought. 

Whispering, loud talking, abrupt calls for any article on the 
table, beginning to eat or calling to be helped the moment seated, 
before the oldest are served, is, in the highest degree, rude and 
vulgar, yet by far too common. Some natural feeling of restraint 
or diffidence may keep the young more quiet when at a friend's 
table, for part of the meal at least ; but they can lay no claim to 
refinement or good manners if they use politeness only when among^ 
strangers — keep it laid away, like a n'ew garment, to be put on 
occasionally, and to be thrown off as speedily as possible because, 
not being in habitual use, it become irksome. " 

Many other habits creep in and find permanent lodgment, if the 
parents are not watchful of their children's behavior at the table. 
Picking the teeth ; handling the hair ; carrying food to the mouth 
while leaning back in the chair; rocking or tilting the chair back 
and forth while eating ; filling the mouth too full ; eating rapidly 
and with much noise from the lips ; sitting with elbows on the table — 
all these, and a multitude equally vulgar, can be met by a care- 
ful mother's vigilance before they have time to take deep root, but, 
if neglected, will stamp a child with coarseness and vulgarity, no- 
matter how exalted the station he was born into. 



LABOR-SAVING MACHINES. 325 



LABOR-SAVING MACHINES. 

Imagine the expression of incredulity, if not contempt, on our 
grandmothers' faces, had they been told that numberless machines 
would be invented to lighten the coming housekeeper's labors. Yet 
the most successful of all these inventions is not half so efficient as 
the quick eye and guiding hand of a housekeeper who fulfills her 
duties with kindness and also with unflinching firmness. No 
mechanical invention will ever give the best results, unless under 
the direction and general supervision of some judicious, w-ell-disci- 
plined, controlling power. It was because of such judiciously applied 
practical knowledge that the housekeepers of olden times accom- 
plished so much more, with little or no help, than many modern 
housekeepers succeed in doing, or having done, with a large retinue 
of servants. Perhaps, indeed, the increased number of servants, 
which modern housekeepers think indispensable, may be, in part, the 
reason for the increased vexations and labors of housekeeping. In 
nine cases out of ten,, two sensible girls, under the eye of a wise and 
competent mistress, Avill accomplish more and better work, and with 
less fatigue for both mistress and maid, than when interrupted and 
hindered by a third. But even if there must be three, a third more 
work will be done with three than with four. When the number 
rises above four, any housekeeper may as well give up in despair. 

Some one, writing on the trials and perplexities which surround 
the housekeeper, remarks : " One of the most urgent of the unsolved 
and irrepressible questions of the times, relates to the trials which 
modern housekeepers experience in their efforts to manage their 
households satisfactorily, and still have time for needful rest and 
social and mental culture." 

This question will not be so puzzling to those of our good Indies 
who fully understand the wonderful utility of that best of labor- 
saving machines — which made the model housekeepers of olden 
times so wonderfully efficient — systematic, methodical labor. All 
the patent machines in the world will not prevent household man- 
agement and labor from being an intolerable burden if there is not 



326 LABOR-SAVING MACHINES. 

some one at the head who not only works herself, by a well-arranged, 
systematic plan, but has the skill and intelligence to teach those in 
her employ to follow her lead and carry out her plan of work 
through all the various duties of the family. 

If one finds it necessary to do the work of a household with her 
own hands, unassisted, it may be often harder work than is quite 
agreeable at all times or always comfortable. But if she works 
systematically, having each part of her labor for the next day 
clearly mapped out in her mind, before she retires at night, she will 
soon learn how to save time and steps, and yet keep all the machin- 
ery running smoothly. While doing the most laborious part, she 
can comfort herself with the knowledge that, by working alone, she 
escapes the hardest part of a housekeeper's duties, the oversight of 
help, and meanwhile will be able to secure many hours of rest — 
that rest which comes by a change of work and position ; substitut- 
ing reading, writing, or some intellectual pursuit or social relaxation, 
for manual labor. 

But, efficient as our grandmothers were, we do not think they 
could have sent down to us so grand a record if they had not been 
able to secure an entirely different class of help from that which is 
usually found at the present time. Servants in those days better 
understood the nature and amount of the duties their employers 
paid them for doing, and expected to have done. Without being 
servile, they were more under the control of their employers than 
the present class of help. They were not thought fit to fill any 
place unless they had been thoroughly trained to perform its tasks. 
Employer and employe distinctly understood, from the first, that 
they were to be held accountable for neglect or short-comings in any 
of their duties, and that any destruction or damage to their em- 
ployer's property, by breakage or carelessness, would be deducted 
from their wages. 

Both mistress and maid knew their appropriate places, and no 
undue familiarity, on the part of the lady emboldened the maid to 
take liberties in speech or manner, as is now so common. Servants 
were not allowed to be out without permission, nor to keep late 
hours; to receive company without permission, or until their work 
was done ; or, in their dress, to pattern after the lady of the house 



LABOR-SAVING MACHINES. 327 

80 closely that a stranger might mistake the maid for the mistress. 
But though kind in most cases, and particuhirly careful of the 
health and comfort of those in their employ, the housekeepers of 
olden time did, unquestionably, secure better and more abundant 
labor from their servants. 

It is seldom that our housewives look into the easily concealed 
parts of their servants' work. There is much said of careful in- 
vestigation and daily supervision ; but how many are so thorough 
in their researches as to handle the implements used in the kitchen, 
for instance? That sauce-pan, skillet, gridiron or griddle looks nice 
and tidy, as the lady passes through, or stands in the kitchen to 
give her daily orders ; but in such cursory observation, what can be 
known of the real state of utensils in which our food is daily pre- 
pared ? 

If but once a week, let the mistress make the only kind of ex- 
amination that can give her a clear insight into the manner which 
her servant's work is done, and in a lai-ge proportion of cases she 
will be dumb with astonishment. Let us make the investigation 
together this evening, when the labors of the day are finished, and, 
if ever, all should be in order, and every utensil thoroughly clean: 
" There! do you not see. Oh critic, that my stove or range is per- 
fectly cleaned and nicely lilackened — the hearth around it swept 
up and well scrubbed ? What more could you ask ? " 

Not so fast, please. Just lift the cover. Is not the grate half 
filled with ashes, clinkers and half-burnt coal, instead of being en- 
tirely freed from all this, and kindlings laid all ready to start the 
fire in the morning? Take oif the other covers ; lay the whole top 
of the range o])en. What do you think of it, you who claim tO' 
have kept a watchful eye over all the departments of your king- 
dom ? Tlie whole upper plate is packed with ashes and cinders,. 
that obstruct the heat, waste your coal, burn out the whole top in 
less than a year, when it should have lasted a score, and cause the 
ovens to act in a most unsatisfactory manner. You have only 
looked on the surface heretofore, but now have a slight insight into 
the interior. Now draw out the ash-pan. Packed full of ashes, 
and the hearth beneath so filled that it raises the pan almost even 
with the grate. Well ; enough with the range just now. You 



328 LABOR-SAVING MACHINES. 

have seen what has hitherto been conceialed, and continue your in- 
vestigation in that line when you call in the range-maker to put it 
in good order. 

We will now pass on to the cooking utensils. Please take down 
that sauce-pan, which you think looks nice and clean. The handle 
slips in your hand, because it is so gi-easy ; the inside, which should 
be as smooth as glass, is rough and jagged, where fat has been 
scorched or burnt on, and never half scoured off. Look inside 
skillets, kettles and pipkins, and find them coated with burnt 
sauces, gravies or vegetables that have never been faithfully cleaned 
out No wonder you often ask what has given an unpleasant flavor 
to such food as was prepared in them. The gridiron is equally 
unclean. Look in the drawer where various smaller utensils are 
kept, or on the nails where they hang. Spoons, ladles, strainers, 
are all slippery from having been but half-washed and wiped. 
How often have you remarked a foul taste to your steak, as if half- 
putrid, when you know it has but just been brought from the 
butcher's ! Look at the steel, long-toothed beefsteak-pounder and 
find the solution. It is packed full and hard with meat and fat 
from half a hundred steaks that have been pounded Avith it since 
it was thoroughly cleaned. 

But time and space would fail to go with you through all your 
domains. You have now the key, and can unlock all the hidden 
places. You can, if you will, see what is covered up in your 
laundry, dining-room, behind the sofa, under picture-stands, etc., in 
your parlor, in your bedrooms, attic — every-where ; and, if you 
please, can, by a few hours' overhauling, have all these concealed 
disorders cleansed, and your servants taught that, for the future, you 
will make no more surface investigation, but keep a wholesome 
supervision of every part of your domains. It will not increase 
the labor, but very much lighten it, when perfect order and system 
control the whole of the household operations. 



LIONS IN THE WAY. 329 



LIONS IN THE WAY. 

Many young housekeepers — and, indeed, some who have had 
years of experience — shrink in alarm at the thought of attempt- 
ing to manufacture certain dishes, because they have an erroneous 
fancy that none but "experts" can succeed. On account of this 
fancy many articles are seldom used, except at stylish parties or 
in fashionable houses, where none but professed cooks are sup- 
posed able to find a position. This is a great mistake. If one 
will try the experiment two or three times, it will soon be seen 
that there are no "lions in the way;" that the great mystery 
supposed to be wrapped about the correct combination of these 
articles, if one would secure a satisfactory result, is all a myth. 
Once tried, and the directions strictly followed, many dishes will 
become common property that are now held in reserve for grand 
occasions. After some few trials, good judgment and sound sense 
will teach the housekeeper how to modify the directions, so that 
the article may not be too rich or too highly seasoned. 

When a young housekeeper has learned that she can herself 
make any thing for her table that she chooses, and that, after a 
few experiments, the work will be found so simple that many deli- 
cacies can be kept on hand with little trouble, Avhich will help 
to embellish the table when caught by unexpected company, or, 
better still, give it an air of true elegance and refinement for the 
pleasure of the home circle, she has then secured independent and 
firm foundations in her department for the remainder of her life. 
She has placed herself above all fear from any unlooked-for contin- 
gencies. 

There are various articles of food that can not be explained to 
an inexperienced hand without a more elaborate description — more 
minute rules and details — than would be at all necessary for one 
thoroughly initiated. To make the whole process plainly under- 
stood by the beginner, it is not so important, in many cases, to be 
elaborate as it is to be minute, and that necessitates many words. 
In these cases the pupil is frightened at the length of the explanation 



330 LIONS IN THE WAY. 

before she has taken time to ascertain what the words imply» 
"Oh! one, two, two and a half pages just to give a receipt! I'm 
certain I should never dare attempt to make that. I never could 
succeed ! " If, instead of being so easily discouraged, the young 
lady had jead the two pages through, she might have found 
that all those words were not the receipt, but simply an ex- 
planation of the reasons for the rules to be given. Nothing can 
be well done if one does not clearly know the reasons for doing^ 
it ill a certain way. 

Many suppose that boning a turkey is one of the most elaborate 
and difficult things to do that is ever set before our guests. On 
the contrary, although it must take longer to prepare it properly 
than it would to roast or boil it, the whole work is simple. Once 
done, a boned turkey is an economical dish for a relish, or when 
an unexpected or hasty lunch or tea must be prepared. Of course,, 
any dish of that kind may be made expensive; but it is better, 
even without looking at it from an economical point of view, to be 
simply prepared. 

A boned turkey bought at the confectioner's for a party will cost 
from ten to twelve dollars. Now, one can be prepared at home 
for five dollars, which, after a little practice, will be just as good, 
and, in many things, better than any that can be bought for 
double the price. Those in which truffles are lavishly served, 
will, of course, cost more, whether made at home or bought at 
the shop. 

Just so with many other fancy articles which can be made just 
as well at home, and often much better, and thus be no more ex- 
pensive than many things in common, everj'^-day use. No cream- 
cakes that were ever purchased at baker's or confectioner's were 
half so nice as a good, sensible housewife can make herself. The 
best Charlotte-russe we ever tasted has been home-made, and the 
same is true of ice-creams. With good milk from one's own co\V, 
no housekeeper need be obliged to depend on the baker or con- 
fectioner for these luxuries. Next to one's own cow is the comfort 
of feeling sure that the milk is bought from an honest man not in 
partnership with the pump on the corner. Then one can still be 



LEMONS. 331 

sure of pure, unadqltered cream-cakes, Charlotte-russe, ice-cream 
and any nicety requiring good milk and cream of a much more 
satisfactory character than any which is bought. 



LEMONS. * 

Any thing much talked of or discussed in a general way, naturally 
brings forward many inquiries after more specific or practical in- 
formation. We have on hand several letters requesting more light 
as to the medicinal qualities of the lemon, and also directions how 
to use them for household purposes, and how best to keep them. 

Unfortunately our medical and scientific attainments are limited, 
and we hesitate to speak confidently, except on a few points where 
we can claim some little practical experience. 

As a medicine for rheumatic troubles or bilious tendencies, in 
most cases the lemon is invaluable, if used with judgment and 
moderation. But we do not believe, as some do, that persons suf- 
fering from dyspepsia should venture on the free use of lemons in 
any form; on the contrary, as far as our observation extends, a 
large proportion of such cases are greatly aggravated by it. In 
dyspepsia the whole mucous merabrance is usually more or less sensi- 
tive, and the coats of the throat and stomach have a tendency to 
an inflamed and irritable condition. In such cases the acute acid 
of the lemon must be very severe, and even when diluted, except 
in very peculiar constitutions, the use of it can hardly be a safe 
experiment ; certainly not except under the immediate watch and 
advice of an experienced physician, and then we are rather skepti- 
cal as to their knowledge and judgment; but even if without un- 
questioning confidence, it is a comfort and relief to have some one 
near, in case of failure, upon whom one can throw all the respon- 
sibility and blame, when advice and remedies do not eflfect a cure, 
or at least decrease the suffering. 

The scurvy, once so feared by sailors when making long voyages, 
is now seldom heard of. We are informed that the freedom from 
this terrible evil is chiefly attributed to the lemon-juice given to 



832 LEMONS. 

the sailors freely, as a part of their regular rations, when on a long 
voyage. 

The juice may be preserved a long time by filtering through a 
flannel bag or " tamis" to clear it from seeds or any sediment ; then 
put it in a bottle, and pour over the top a spoonful or so of olive- 
oil. Cork closely, and put in a cool place. When needed, uncork 
and dip carefully into the bottle a clean linen cloth tied to the top 
of a skewer or small stick. The oil will adhere to the cloth and 
be all taken off, leaving the juice as clear and nice as when first 
bottled. Be particular to uncork a small bottle if only a little is 
to be used, as it will keep but a day. or two after uncorking, unless 
decanted into a still smaller bottle and the oil returned to it. Even 
then it will not keep so well as at first. 

Lemon-juice, protected as above stated, is exported in large quanti- 
ties from Italy and Turkey to many parts of the world. The juice 
is also, when just expressed, often crystallized, and can thus be 
preserved in any climate for an indefinite length of time; but, of 
course, this crystallized acid is much inferior to the pure juice. 
Still it is valuable as a substitute when the fresh article can not be 
obtained. There is so much of a mucilaginous nature about lemon- 
juice that, without some artificial means, it will not keep long, and 
it is very convenient, especially when traveling, to secure it in this 
crystallized form. 

When a cooling drink is desired, dissolve a small portion of the 
crystal in half a tumblerful of water, sweeten, and, if not acid 
enough, add a little more till the proper quantity is secured. Then, 
in another tumbler, dissolve a small powder of carbonate of soda, 
and, as in preparing soda-water, pour it into the lemon-water, and a 
very fair substitute for lemonade is the result, and with the efier. 
vescing quality as an additional attraction. But in the crystallized 
state the aroma of the lemon is lost, as the flavor is all derived 
from the peel. To secure this, rub some lumps of loaf-sugar over 
a fresh lemon until enough of the oil or flavor has penetrated the 
sugar to give the requisite aroma to the beverage, and dissolve with 
the crystallized juice. 

Lemonade may be prepared and bottled ready for use that will 
keep in a cool place several days. Rub lumps of loaf-sugar over 



TURTLES. 333 

several lemons, then squeeze out all the juice from half a dozen, 
sweeten quite sweet with granulated sugar, adding the lumps that 
have been saturated with the oil from the rind. Then pour on suf- 
ficient boiling water to make it palatable. When cool, bottle it till 
needed, and then add plenty of ice. Or squeeze fewer lemons, 
unless for a large company (the taste must decide how many), and 
use it as soon as cool and well iced. 

We notice that the idea of pouring boiling water. to the juice is 
recommended in making lemonade for daily use, as it is stated it 
will destroy the bitter taste often noticed in common lemonade. We 
have never tried it, and give it as being sustained by the best 
authority. But we imagine if the lemons are well washed, and, 
if not perfectly fresh, scraped enough to take off just the thinnest 
coating of the rind, and then rub loaf-sugar over the peel instead 
of cutting the peel into the water, there will be no bitter taste. 



TURTLES. 

The green turtle is the most highly esteemed of all that class of 
food which is the epicure's delight. The flesh is of three colors. 
The dark-red is called "beef," the lighter parts "veal," and the 
white "lamb." The fat is of a greenish color. Steaks are cut 
from the hind-quarter, and are the most delicate and delicious part 
of the turtle. 

In preparing a turtle, hang it up by the hind fins, and then cut 
off the head. Let it hang five or six hours, then take it down and 
very carefully cut off both the upper and under shells, remove the 
interior parts, and cut up as desired. 

Green turtles from the West Indies and Florida are brought into 
market from May until cold weather, and occasionally during the 
winter. 

The "terrapin," found in the Middle and upper Southern States, 
and in the salt marshes of the lower sections, is considered by epicures 
one of the greatest delicacies to be found in Philadelphia, Baltimore 



334 TURTLES. 

and Washington. There are several kinds of the small turtle known 
as terrapins, but only the dark shell, "diamond back," is genuine. 
They are but pigmies (weighing from three to eight pounds) by 
the side of the green turtle, which often weighs from fifty to five or 
six hundred pounds. 

The soft-shell turtle is also considered as among the luxuries. 

The "logger-head turtle" makes an excellent soup. It is small 
and fat, and worth very little except for soup. 

The ordinary snapping-turtle weighs from two to five pounds, 
and is by some considered "good eating" and savory. The larger 
ones have a strong, unpleasant flavor, like musk. 

The fresh-water turtles that we find in our ponds and rivers are 
thought very good by many. The eggs of all turtles are considered 
excellent — therefore the female is the most desirable. 

Most turtles can be kept for many days in the cellar without 
food. They require no heat-making food, being cold-blooded ; and, 
lying nearly torpid in the cellar, they don't grow poor. It is said 
that a turtle in the cellar emits some odor that will banish rats and 
mice. 

Most grocers keep the dried turtle, which, if properly cooked, 
makes quite a good soup, and is much more economical than fresh 
turtle. 

Turtle-eggs are very plentiful in the region where the turtle lives. 
They lay three times a year, and about one hundred are deposited 
for one brood. The eg^ is round, about the size of a hen's egg, and 
consists only of a yolk inclosed in a thin skin, and is very delicate 
and nutritious. 

A Baltimore receipt for stewing terrapin is as follows: 

Drop two full-sized terrapins into a kettle of boiling water, add a 
little salt ; let them boil until the upper shell will come off easily — 
which it will generally do in an hour. Take off the shell with much 
care ; take out the gall without breaking it — it will be found im- 
bedded in one of the livers — remove the sand-bag and intestines if 
desired, though by many they are thouglit to be the best part of 
the turtle. Pick up the meat into small pieces, but leave in all the 
bones. Place all the juice over the fire in a sauce-pan. If not suf- 
ficient in itself for the sauce, add what is lacking in boiling water. 



TURTLES. 335 

Put the picked-iip terrapin into this liquor, and, when thoroughly 
cooked, cream a quarter of a pound of fresh butter -with one table- 
spoonful of plain flour, and one of browned flour; add salt and pep- 
per to taste, and half a teaspoonful of ground cloves, and put with 
the creamed butter to the terrapin. Boil the whole ten minutes, 
stirring constantly to prevent scorching. Some, before removing 
from the fire, stir in a gill of wine. Most people not living near its 
native places, ruin terrapin by adding too many things, which hide* 
the real flavor— as one would suppose wine would do. 

A Philadelphia receipt proceeds as above in boiling, then cleans 
the entrails, breaks them into inch pieces; to each full-sized terra- 
pin take a quarter of a pound of butter, rub into it one tablespoon- 
ful of flour, the yolk of an egg half boiled, and one wine-glasslul of 
cream; add salt, pepper, cloves, mace, nutmeg, cayenne and mush- 
room catsup, if desired ; though many prefer it with salt and cayenne, 
pepper only, enjoying the true flavor of the terrapin unconcealed by so 
many condiments. Put all these into the saiice-pan with the terra- 
pin, and let them boil a few minutes, and, if palatable, add a slice 
of lemon. If more gravy is needed than what is made by cutting 
up the terrapin, throw the shells into the water in which they were 
boiled, and let them boil briskly a few minutes. The water in which 
terrapins are boiled is very rich and gelatinous, and is used as stock. 
Just before serving, add a wine-glassful of sherry, port or claret, if 
desired. As a matter of personal taste alone, even if not of princi- 
ple, we reject all food in which Avine or brandy is used, but leave 
others to decide for themselves. 

Green-turtle soup is a very elaborate and expensive article of lux- 
urious food; but for the benefit of those who live where turtles are 
abundant, and for those who are curious to read about, if not to taste, 
so aristocratic a dish, we give the details from the beginning: 

The day before the soup is required, hang up the turtle by the 
hind fins, cut off" the head, and leave the turtle to bleed and drain 
all night. In the morning lay the turtle on its back on the table, 
cut off the fore fins, separate the calipash (upper shell) from the 
calipee (under shell), beginning at the hind fins. Cut off all the fat 
that will be found adhering to the calipash and the lean of the cal- 
ipee. Then cut off" the hind fins. Remove all the lean meat from 



336 TURTLES. 

the calipee, and also from the fins. Cut this meat into pieces two 
inches square, and put into a stew-pan. Hold the calipash, calipee 
and fins in scalding — not boiling— water for a few minutes, which 
will cause the shells to separate easily. This done, cut them — the cal- 
ipash and calipee — into pieces six inches square, and put them into 
a stock-pot with some light veal-stock. Boil until the meat is ten- 
der, then take it out and put it into cold water. Then free the 
meat from the bones, and cut into inch square pieces. Return the 
bones to the stock, let it boil gently two hours, and then this por- 
tion of the stock is fit for use. 

Cut the fins into pieces an inch wide, boil in stock with an onion, 
two or three cloves, a fagot of parsley and thyme, and a sprig of sweet 
basil and marjoram. When these are tender, take them out and 
add this stock to the other. 

Now put the lean meat into a stew-pan with a pint of Madeira or 
sherry, four tablespoonfuls of chopped green shalot, two sliced lemons, 
a bunch of thyme, marjoram, sweet basil and parsley and savory — 
about a tablespoonful of each when chopped ; there should be a lit- 
tle more than double the quantity of the parsley. Pound together 
one nutmeg, twelve allspice, one blade of mace, five or six cloves, 
and a tablespoonful each of pepper and salt ; add a teaspoonful of 
curry-powder, and put two-thirds of this to the lean meat, with a 
quarter of a pound of fresh butter and a quart of stock. Let the 
whole stew gently until the meat is done. 

While the turtle is in preparation, have a large knuckle of ham 
cut into small dice, and put into a stew-pan with four large onions 
sliced, six bay leaves, three blades of mace, twelve allspice, three- 
fourths of a pound of butter, and cover with veal-stock. Let this 
all simmer together till the onions are melted, or like jelly. Shred 
fine a small bunch of basil, a larger one of thyme, savory and mar- 
joram, and put to the onions, keeeping them as green as possible. 
When done, sift into it a little flour, enough to thicken the soup. 
Then by degrees add the stock in which the calipash and calipee were 
boiled, and the seasoning stock made from the lean turtle-meat. 
Boil all together one hour, then rub through a very fine strainer or 
woolen cloth ; add salt, cayenne and lemon to suit the taste. Now 
put in the meat of the turtle — let all boil together half an hour. 



FIRST USEFUL— THEN ORNAMENTAL. 337 

These directions are for a turtle of about fifty pounds, and the 
ingredients can be increased or diminished according to size. 

If there are no turtle-eggs, boil three common eggs hard ; make 
the yolks into a paste with the yolk of an uncooked egg, roll into 
small balls, and throw into boiling water ten minutes to harden. 

For the force-meat balls, mince a portion of the meaty part of the 
turtle, beat up with it half of an anchovy, a piece of celery boiled 
tender, the yolk of a hard-boiled egg, and two tablespoonfuls of 
bread-crumbs; season with cayenne, mace, salt and white pepper. 
Moisten this with a little oyster-liquor, a lump of butter warmed, 
and a well-beaten egg; roll it into balls and fry in batter. 

A turtle is not considered to be in perfection unless weighing 
from ninety to one hundred pounds, and, consequently, unless on 
some special occasion when a very large company is invited, a whole 
turtle would not be used in one family. Therefore, in ordinary cases^ 
some consomme (or very rich gravy from stewed meats) should be 
prepared according to directions, and two or three quarts of turtle- 
meat bought from some wholesale turtle-dealer, where it can always^ 
be had in perfection, if, as is usual in large cities, such an estab- 
lishment is to be found. If not, it can be obtained from large: 
hotels or steamers just ready to sail, where this soup is made oftea 
in large quantities. 

Real turtle-soup is a very rich soup, and expensive, and is not 
likely to be used often. 



FIRST USEFUL-THEN ORNAMENTAL. 

"A girl who can put on a square patch may not be so accomplished as one 
who can work a green worsted dog on a yellow ground, but she is of far 
more real value in the community." 

It is possible that, in olden times, too much stress was laid on the 
importance of training girls to mend and darn so exquisitely that 
it would be difficult, almost impossible, to discover that there had 
been any necessitv for the labor; but if there was any error in 

22 



338 FIRST USEFUL— THEN ORNAMENTAL. 

teaching and exacting such perfect work, it was a fault " that leaned to 
virtue's side," and, beyond all comparison, better than the wretched 
" botching" to be found on the raiment of some — ^of many — of the 
girls of the present day. Laundresses that wash for school-girls 
could make strange revelations of neglect of garments and careless 
repairs, were not their lips sealed through fear of losing good cus- 
tomers. 

When a broken stitch is allowed to go on uncared for until it has 
become a hole so large that the stocking can not be longer worn 
without some repairs, and is then drawn up into an ugly bunch — 
hard enough to blister the feet — instead of being nicely darned ; or 
when a tear or rip on dress or under-garment is pulled together with 
thread coarse enough to injure the fabric, Avho is to blame — the 
mother or the daughter? What instruction has ever been given the 
young girl about looking out for the beginning of evil in her ward- 
robe ? Has she been taught to darn or to mend every rent or rip, the 
first possible instant after it was discovered, and to do it neatly? 

Oh, no! Her music or drawing lessons, her French and Ger- 
naan and dancing, are apparently of more importance than such 
useful work as mending or darning. Indeed, there are far too many 
young girls from whom the most rigorous application to fanciful 
accomplishments is exacted, whose mothers have never taught them 
to sew decently, if at all. When the mothers of these young ladies 
were girls often or twelve, they would have been ashamed to have 
had no more practical knowledge, or have proved themselves such 
utterly useless members of the home circle. Why should they thus 
defraud and dwarf their own children? It is not a very remote 
period to look back to, when, if mothers had permitted their daugh- 
ters to enter womanhood ignorant of domestic arts, or unable to 
keep 4heir own garments in proper order, they would have been 
thought incompetent to have the charge of children, destitute of 
that affection that seeks the present best good of those committed to 
their charge, and is anxious to secure their future prosperity. 

If parents never before realized the importance of securing a thor- 
oughly practical education for their children, the "hard times," which 
'of late have pressed so heavily on all classes, must now surely show 
them the absolute necessity of such training. This practical knowl- 



FALL CLEANING. 339 

edge is quite as important for our daughters as for our sons. Give 
both every accomplishment, and of the highest order, that can be 
secured without deducting the smallest fraction from the far more 
valuable practical instructions that in mature age may save them 
from much suffei-ing and acute mortification. There are none 
so prosperous that they may not be placed in positions where they 
would gladly exchange the rarest accomplishment for a little of the 
efficient executive ability which in their youth they so lightly 
esteemed. In such cases our daughters will suffer more than our 
sons if the practical part of their early education has been neglected. 
If a young lady has what in these days is the rare skill of com- 
pelling her needle to assist her in carrying out all the requisitions 
which will enable her, with scant materials, to keep herself neatly 
and genteelly clad; if she can turn, remodel, jDiece neatly, 
cover the lack .of material by some simple and appropriate trim- 
ming until she makes an old, dilapidated garment look " amaist as 
weel's the new," she will have cause all the days of her life to 
thank the mother who led her in the way she should go ; and 
whatever changes or vicissitudes may be sent, she has far less to fear 
than those who, in prosperous days, are only fanciful ornaments of 
their homes, but when the evil days come will, through their igno- 
rance, become oppressive burdens upon those who must provide for 
their support. 



FALL CLEANING. 



The summer is over and gone ; cold nights and mornings have 
so frightened and subdued the flies that it is easy to hunt them 
from the house, and by a little extra watchfulness prevent their again 
gaining possession. The sun, still quite warm and summer-like in 
the middle of the day, tempts them out from their hiding-places, 
and they will swarm in at open doors and windows, if unprotected 
by wire and net-frames, in great numbers. Take care that these 
safeguards are doing duty whenever windows or doors are opened 
for ventilation or comfort, else these skillful little raaneuverers will 



340 FALL CLEANING. 

soon gain access. Drive them out toward night into the cool even- 
ing air. A few really cold nights will free you from these vexa- 
tious intruders, and enable you to commence fall cleaning in peace 
and safety. The danger always is, that this part of fall labor will 
be undertaken too early. The first ten or twelve days of Septem- 
ber are usually raw and cold. The flies, crawling into warm nooks 
and corners, pretend to be asleep. The housekeeper, forgetting the 
experience of former years, hastens to get out scrub-cloths, brushes 
and all the implements of house-cleaning. Those whose homes are 
in the city, hurry back with the first puff of cold air, believing 
that flies and heat have both alike departed for the season. But 
they soon learn that this is a great mistake. These chilly, cold 
days are usually followed by ten days or a fortnight as warm as 
midsummer, and generally quite unhealthy. Nothing but real 
necessity should tempt any one to leave the country before they 
have fully enjoyed the most perfect month of the whole year — 
October. But whether in city or country, those who attempt to do 
their fall cleaning in September will have short-lived satisfaction, 
compared with the comfort derived from the same work in October. 
Flies, spiders and wasps, if not harmless then, are at least so far dis- 
abled as to be easily conquered; and, until that is accomplished, 
house-cleaning on a large scale is wasted labor. 

The first thing to be done, preparatory to house -cleaning, is to 
have all the chimneys thoroughly swept, and the furnace, range 
and grate-flues, not only perfectly cleaned from soot, but examined 
by a competent workman ; especially is this needful if the house 
has been closed or only partially used during the summer. Before 
real winter weather comes, every thing of this kind should be in 
perfect order. 

Have the furnace-grate examined, as it may have been corroded 
by rust while unused, or so far burned out that, if neglected, 
some cold morning when a bright glowing fire is most needed it 
may break down and let your fire out. It will not be pleasant to 
sit shivering while the old grate is being mended or a new one 
fitted. The range-grate and fire-bricks must also be looked after 
and repaired for winter use. A little attention now will save much 
expense and discomfort later in the season. 



FALL CLEANING. 341 

If carpenters' or masons' work, white-washing, painting, glazing 
or phimbing is needed, it should all be done before any cleaning is 
attempted. If left till afterward, this kind of work is a great ter- 
ror to housekeepers. To secure seasonable attention to all these 
matters, it is essential that the mechanics who are needed should 
be engaged some weeks in advance ; but remember that such work- 
men are unfortunately not as good in keeping promises as in break- 
ing them; therefore, watch closely, and hold them to their agree- 
ment. This habit of promising more can than be performed is a very 
pernicious one, and, in the end, most unprofitable. Mechanics are 
tempted to this dishonorable practice by anxiety to secure a good 
job. Knowing the great demand fur labor, they imagine if they 
promise to do your work at a given time, come and do a little, 
then go to some one else, leaving your work half-finished, then back 
to you again for awhile — the second party exposed to the same 
vexatious delay — that your necessity will compel you to endure it 
silently, if not patiently. You may submit for this once; but never 
burn your fingers twice at the same fire. Let it once be under- 
stood that employers of all kinds look upon a broken promise as 
destroying all confidence, and that they will, under no circum- 
stances, give a promise-6reai;er a second opportunity to beguile them, 
and this great trial to grace and patience would soon be over- 
come. 

While repairs are going on, bring down all the woolen gar- 
ments, blankets, furs or pieces of carpeting that have been stored 
away for the summer. Take them out on the grass-plat under 
your clothes-line before removing the wrappers, for the preparation 
in which they have been put away is not very pleasant to the smell ; 
particularly if it is Poole's Powder, which we think the safest as 
well as the most disagreeable. If it is a windy day, hang all on 
the clothes-line for a good snapping before you attempt to brush 
them, and most of the powder will blow off". After an hour or two 
in sun and wind, brush them well with a nice whisk-broom, and, 
when done, the garments and blankets may be put in their proper 
places, and the pieces of carpeting sewed up in bagging or canvas, 
or put into a spare trunk. They will need no more powder 



342 FALL CLEANING. 

till spring, if carefully stored and occasionally aired through the 
winter. 

The coal, of course, you had put into the cellar last spring, a» 
it is usually cheaper about May than in the fall. The ashes and 
soot having been removed, the flues, furnace and grates all in 
order, the house should now be swept from the attic to the cellar. 
Ingrain and three-ply carpets ought to be taken up every year, 
unless in rooms but little used, and, after being well shaken or taken 
to the carpet-shaking mill, they should be laid out of the way till 
the room from which they were taken is cleaned. Brussels, Wil- 
tons, Axminsters and all the heavier carpets should be raised not 
oftener than every three years. No dust sifts through such fabrics, 
and careful sweeping and the use of a good "carpet-sweeper" will 
preserve them from all harm. In sweeping, preparatory to cleaning, 
it is well to draw the tacks in the corners and turn the carpet back,^ 
so that, Avith a whisk-broom, any dirt that may have settled there 
can be easily removed. It is but little work, and the corners can 
be readily tacked down again. 

When the sweeping is all done, a most thorough dusting is the 
next operation, so that wood-work, walls and gas-brackets may 
be free from loose dirt before water is used. The paint is much 
easier cleaned after this than if the dust was allowed to remain and 
be washed off. Some recommend the latter to save time. We think 
it wastes time. 

The walls should be dusted with a long-handled feather duster; 
then, with a clean, dry cloth pinned smoothly over a clean broom^ 
wipe them down evenly, beginning at the top and passing in a 
straight line, "by a thread," as a seamstress would say, to the 
bottom, changing the cloth as it becomes soiled. Next, remove all 
chimneys and shades from the chandeliers and gas-burners; wash 
clean, dry and polish with a soft linen towel, and then with chamois- 
skin, and put them into a closet till the room is cleaned. Now, with 
a cloth wrung from weak, hot suds, wipe off the brackets and chan- 
deliers, and rub dry witli chamois-skin. Draw a coarse linen thread, 
double, through the opening in the tip of all the gas-burners to re- 
move any dust that may have settled in them while unused. This 
done — and if you have two or three hands at work, the work may 



WOMAN'S WBONGS. 343 

be so divided as to be done quite expeditiously — let one wash the 
windows while another cleans the paint. The windows, if long un- 
used, need to be well washed in warm suds, into which a little 
spirits of ammonia has been poured, two teaspoonfuls to half a 
bucket of suds, then well rinsed in clear water, wiped dry and pol- 
ished with chamois-skin. This same proportion of suds and am- 
monia will also clean paint very easily, and without injury to the 
hands. It is good for cleaning marble slabs and mantels. The 
plated door-handles, bell-pulls, etc., come next in order for clean- 
ing; and here, if a piece of oil-cloth is cut to slip over each so that 
the walls may not be tarnished, the hot suds and ammonia will 
prove very eflective. A piece of old carpet or drugget should be 
laid down as you clean windows, paint or plated-ware if the carpet 
is down, and moved from one spot to another as you go on. 

Now all is ready to put the last touch to the room. Wring a 
clean cloth from some warm, clear water in which a little alum or 
salt has been dissolved, and wipe hard each breadth of the carpet, 
rubbing straight down the nap. Wring out the cloth often, to rinse 
off all the dust, and change the water if it looks very dingy. This 
brings up the nap, and gives a new and fresh look to carpets of all 
kinds — only be sure that the cloth is not so wet as to drip. Leave 
the windows open when the carpet is finished, and shut the doors 
till it is thoroughly dried before bringing in what furniture was 
moved out to clean the room. 



WOMAN'S WRONGS. 



It is becoming fashionable to talk of woman's wrongs, of the 
cramped and down-trodden condition in which she is kept. We 
are told of the husband's indifference to the wife's wishes and feel- 
ings, of the wonderful talents buried, of the great lights hidden 
under a bushel — that is, in household duties or the nursery — which 
might enlighten the whole world, if husbands — arbitrary tyrants 
that they are — did not repress these noble aspirations by their 



344 WOMAN'S WRONGS. 

neglect, unkinduess and want of sympathy. Young wives are scarcely 
through the excitement of the wedding tour and bridal calls, before 
they fall into the fashion of seeki)ig sympathy from their "dear 
five thousand friends," on account of the great trials they are en- 
during through their husbands' disregard of their wishes, or indif- 
ference to their feelings. How little respect to them he manifests — 
how attentive to other ladies in company — how careless of his wife ! 
Or, he praises another lady foj her beauty or manners, or some 
great virtue, just to remind his wife of her short-comings. All this, 
if not imaginary, is very serious. But is the wife entirely blame- 
less? We are pained by appeals for sympathy and advice from 
those who make "mountains out of very small mole-hills" — who see 
the mote that is in the husbands' eye, when we can not but fear 
they forget the beayn, visible to all but themselves, in their own. To 
complain that the husband has grown cold, indifferent or neglect- 
ful, is a grave charge, for which one should possess proof as "strong 
as holy writ," before allowing such thoughts to enter the heart, 
much less daring to give them utterance. There may be some little 
truth in all these charges ; but are they not too often the result of 
your own mistakes or perversity? There are two sides to every 
question ; and in all disputes or fault-finding there is generally 
blame with both. But of late, it is taken for granted that 
the husband only is deserving of censure, and we hear rebukes 
and advice administered, which, if acted upon by the oppressor, 
would certainly make life delightful if the wife fulfilled her part 
of the contract in a manner equally desirable. We quote a few 
sentences of most admirable advice to husbands, entitled "Respect 
Due to Wives : " 

"Do not jest with your wife on any subject, when thei:e is danger 
of hurting her feelings. Do not speak of great virtues in another's 
wife to remind your own of a fault. Do not reproach her with 
personal defects; if she is sensitive you inflict a wound difficult 
to heal. Do not treat her inattentively in company ; it touches 
her pride, and she will not respect you more or love you better for 
it. Never upbraid your wife in the pi'esence of a third party ; the 
sense of your disregard of her feelings will prevent her from con- 
fessing her fault. Never entertain her by praising the beauty and 



WOMAN'S WRONGS. 345 

accomplisliments of other women. If you would have a pleasant 
home and a cheerful companion, pass your eveuings at home with 
your wife, or take her to social enjoyments with you. Be not silent 
and stern in your own house, and remarkable for sociability else- 
where." 

Now, this is most excellent advice, too often greatly needed, and 
we would only suggest, as an amendment, that as marriage makes of 
*'the twain oyie fle^k," the wife should have her share in this counsel, 
which, if fairly distributed, ought to secure happiness as nearly 
unalloyed as we can hope for this side of heaven. 

But permit us to ask. Is there no respect due to hushandst Per- 
haps it is the perversity, said to be inherent in woman's nature, 
but we must acknowledge that we are so far behind this progressive 
age as to be guilty of some sympathy for them. 

You complain that your husband "teases and makes fun," as 
you express it, of things that he knows will hurt your feelings. 
Do you never jest with your husband on subjects that you know 
will wound himf and do you not do it purposely to hurt him a 
little, because he has — well, never mind what he has done — you 
have often done so, have you not? 

Did you never tell him of some great excellence in your friend's 
companion, on purpose to remind him of certain short-comings or 
faults in his own habits or character? Did you never treat your 
husband inattentively or impatiently in company, while you cor- 
dially and politely accepted the attention of other and far less noble 
men? Did you never blame him in the presence of a third party? 
What woman is more sensitive to blame, before others, than a hus- 
band when the censure comes from his wife's lips? 

Are you never silent — perhaps cross, in your own home, with no 
one to entertain but your husband — yet full of life and amiability 
and vivacity in company ? 

While it is just and proper that husbands should listen to this 
counsel, and, by its teaching, endeavor to augment the joys of 
home, should not wives also take its truths into their own hearts? 
Are we not equally blameworthy? Ay, more so; for home is our 
kingdom, where we may reign supreme, if we hold the scepter with 
a gentle hand while the law of love and kindness is ever on our lips. 



346 WOMAN'S WRONGS. 

We have seen young people begin life with every promise of 
most perfect happiness, yet make entire shipwreck of all by their 
own unguarded words, impatient actions and unregulated tempers. 
A talent for spicy and brilliant repartee may enliven a party, give 
the highest zest and piquancy to social intercourse, and endow its 
possessor with a certain position, enviable or otherwise, as the case 
may be ; in the home circle it is a dangerous gift, and, unfor- 
tunately, more frequently bestowed upon the wife than upon the 
husband. How often have we recoiled, as from a blow, when hearing 
those who should be one in heart, draw comparisons prejudicial to 
their own husbands, and to the credit of another's, prefaced with 
some bright, witty, but most stinging remark ! Do those who give 
such license to the tongue ever remember that with the marriage vow 
they took each other's happiness,' honor and respectability into their 
own hands, to cherish or destroy ; and that God has made the bond 
so inseparable, that all honor bestowed on the one passes over and 
is shared by the other; and all disgrace or error that militates 
against the one is equally injurious to the other? 

We do not like this talk that has become so fashionable, of the 
injustice which man does or countenances toward woman. We are 
told how her ffeelings are trampled upon, her rights ignored, the 
possibility of her attaining literary eminence or standing on an 
equality with man scoffed at, and all her efforts to raise her sex 
met with ridicule and contempt. Now, we are not indifferent to any 
work that has for its aim the elevation of woman ; but we do object 
to the snappish, vixenish manner which characterizes the efforts of 
those who can not speak of " woman's rights" without a tart, waspish 
fling at man. Why ! our fathers, brothers, husbands, sons, are they not 
men — but "bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh" also? While we 
press forward for a prize which shall place us side by side with 
those dear relations, why not work hand in hand with them (as God 
shall give us the strength and capacity) in blessed unity, instead of 
standing on the defensive? We can not believe that the sex, to 
whom we belong, and who belong just as much to us, will stand in 
the way of our progress, if, in seeking to rise, we retain the character 
of the true, gentle loving women God designed us to be — a far 
nobler type of womanhood, and more likely to gain the end sought 



WOMAN'S WRONOS. 347 

for, than an imperious, scolding, fault-finding character which can 
only secure us reproach. God created man and woman equal, but with 
such different organizations that, while we cooperate and work in 
unison, we have each our own peculiar ofiices to perform in com- 
mon life — but still both should be Avorking equally toward the same 
good end. We once heard a quaint old Baptist minister say, "God 
did not take woman from man's foot to be trodden upon ; nor from 
his head, to rule over him ; but from his ribs, to walk with him, 
side by side, his equal companion and friend, while life lasts." 

We know all that is said of man's rough, abrupt, overbearing 
ways. There is some truth, but also much exaggeration in it. 
We confess, we think, there is a little spice of tyranny in every 
man's composition; and, perhaj)S, since the days of old ^' Queen 
Bens," if not before, we might find fenough of the same qualities in 
our own sex to establish our claims to sisterhood; but admitting 
that these are purely masculine elements, do we not know how to 
conquer and eradicate even these uncomfortable and undesirable 
traits? When the storm descended in great fury, the traveler 
wrapped his cloak about him closely. The wind roared in its 
wrath, rocking him to and fro, whirling him like a feather along 
the road. In vain it endeavored to tear, the cloak from him; he 
but hugged it all the more closely. But when the sun came to 
him gently and noiselessly, the iron will and sturdy frame that 
battled so successfully against storm and wind, bowed down before 
the genial, loving influence, and acknowledged itself conquered. 
And thus may woman, if she will assert her power, secure most 
willing subjects, when fretfulness, impatience and resistance would 
find but rough and stubborn opponents. 

"Oh I my sisters, we are groping blindfy, weakly, 
In the heat and dust of life, 
And we pray, as may be, bitterly, or meekly, 
For the secret of our life. 

"We curse our fate of womanhood; despairing, 
With swift, sharp words of shame ; 
We faint beneath the burdens we are bearing. 
And vet what do we claim? 



348 FASHIONABLE DRESS. 

"The heights that we must scale look cold aud frowning; 
Sweet seems the olden calm ; 
E'en while we think to touch the victor's crowning, 
We clasp the martyr's palm. 

" We say that men's hands powerless have bound us, 
That they have wrought our fate; 
The love, we cry, that welds these chains around us, 
Is cruder than hate. 

" That which we seek to wrest from our strong brothers, 
They can not give or take ; 
The work to do is ours, and not another's ; 
Man can not mar or make. 

" Then let us cease this clamor of much speaking, 
And learn a nobler trust; 
The blessing comes not save to earnest seeking ; 
The unused talents rust. 

" Oh ! my sisters, let us trust our God more surely ; 
We win our strength through pain ; 
Striving to live, as in his sight more purely, 
We shall not toil in vain." 



FASHIONABLE DRESS. 



We are often asked why we do not speak out plainly, in the way 
of counsel and reproof, about the absurdities of fashionable drees, 
now so apparent. What good would it do ? Almost every paper 
has spoken plainly or hinted — the worst kind of speaking, however 
unmistabable, on this subject— and what is the result? Week by 
week the fashion-plates are increasingly monstrous, until at last we 
are uncertain whether it is a bona-fide fashion-plate we are looking at, 
or " Punch " and ' ' The Budget of Fun." Neither could take greater 
liberties or more atrociously caricature "the human form divine." 
And what would be very amusing, if the weakness did not excite 
so much pity, those who urge us to contribute our mite toward a 



FASHIONABLE DRESS. 349 

reform — a more Christian mode of dress — are themselves a marvel- 
ous structure — a pile, composed of frizzed, braided, curled and 
puffed hair, under wliich a small, delicate face appears; a dress, 
fringed, flounced, puffed and trailing, with hoops and panniers pro- 
truding like a dromedary's hump ; and all this miserable deformity 
borne about on high heels and the tips of the toes — the discomfort 
and pain of such unnatural locomotion accepted and endured be- 
cause it is the fashion. Yet, these fair inquirers appeared wholly 
unconscious that their own disfigurement was a stronger appeal for 
aid than any words could have been. 

Why not begin this reform in your own dress? Brush your hair 
smoothly, and give us the satisfaction of once more seeing what the 
head is, as God made it; take off yards of silk, lace and fringe, 
and show us a natural, graceful figure. You who move in what 
is called fashionable society can do more by such independence than 
all that can be written. Try one season, and mark the change you 
would effect. " Oh, we couldn't think of such a thing! 'As well 
be out of the world as out of fashion,' you know. It would make 
us so very conspicuous by our singularity. We think it would not 
be modest to take such a stand. No one person can effect the 
change — it must be simultaneous." Ah ! had all reformers reasoned 
so, what would now be the condition of the civilized world! But 
fashion is a tyrant, and we fear volumes written on the evils which 
she brings will do little good until women have learned to defy 
her. A few, in every age, have done valiantly in their attempts to 
dethrone her; but she changes so often, and so abruptly and en- 
tirely, it is diflScult to keep track of her. As far back as we can 
search, the whirligig of fashion has been in perpetual motion, un- 
ceasing in its changes. The advice and admonition of age and ex- 
perience have little influence toAvard checking this long-established 
tyranny. The old look sadly upon the vagaries of the young ; but 
if they glance back to their own early days, would they not recall 
equal absurdities in the fashions of that period, or, on a moment's 
reflection perhaps, even the dress and style to which they still 
pertinaciously adhere may be liable to the same criticism ? 

We vividly remember the look of dissatisfaction on our grand- 
mother's face, a dear little woman nearly eighty years old, whose 



850 FASHIONABLE DRESS. 

keen black eyes flashed ominously as we came before her for in- 
spection, dressed for our first party. "We stood, at fourteen, a full 
head the taller, but were abashed at the dignified air of authority 
with which she discanted on the ridiculousness of our attire. A 
very narrow skirt, with a few gathers in the back, three small 
pleats on each side — it took but six or seven yards then for a dress — 
a full waist, with a narrow band round the neck like a baby's slip, 
and the belt almost under the arm; a large lace — "Vandyke" — or 
cape over the shoulders; the hair was combed high on the top of 
the head and tightly tied, and the length twisted into a knot or bow, 
and kept in place by a big tortoise-shell comb, the top of it full 
three inches high, and six or seven inches round; this Avas placed 
back of the hair. Our first high-topped comb ! What a wonder- 
ful work of art it was in our eyes! And the dress — our first silk — 
of changeable hues, how stylish it did look! We thought every 
one must recognize its elegance. Yet here was this "little 
grandma"— whose judgment, next to our mother's, was infallible — 
looking with disdain upon it, and turning our whole outfit into rid- 
icule! It was heart-breaking ! And for our first 2:)arty ! Fourteen 
was very young to go to parties ; but being tall for the age, we were 
invited, by midake, we presume. At the present time, young ladies 
of three and four send out and receive their cards, and with gloves 
and fans, frizzled hair and flounced dresses, mimic the aflfectation 
and absurdities of their elders. We have no sweet, simple childhood 
any longer. 

But how was our revered critic attired? The soft, white hair, 
still quite abundant, was brushed straight over from the brow, not 
tied on top, but lolled as tightly as it could be drawn over what was 
then called a pillow — noio it would be, we presume, a rat — and fast- 
ened on the top of the head by two long silver pins with arrow 
heads ; a spotless white vudl cap, with a very high crown and deep 
frill was put on over this pillow, and tied with a broad, black satin 
ribbon, in a bow on top; a string of gold beads, a square of white 
lace folded over the shoulders, and crossed in pleats in front, was 
under the dress of heavy black satin ; the waist of said dress made 
long down to the hips, with a point before and behind, the skirt 
not trailed, but immensely full; very high-heeled slippers; a large, 



FASHIONABLE DEESS. 351 

black satin bag or reticule, embroidered with white beads, on her 
arm, in which was the ever-present knitting-work, completed the 
costume. And this queerly-dressed little grandmother scoffed at 
our newer style as being the height of absurdity. Her dress ap- 
peared appropriate to her, because we had never seen her otherwise, 
attired ; but with all affectionate deference to her superior wisdom 
we thought it very ugly, and would have shrank in disgust from 
wearing it ourselves. Doubtless our new dress, in which we then 
rejoiced, Avould strike our grandchildren now as equally undesirable. 

So fashion changes, and Avords of expostulation are wasted. 
But in this age of improvement, when we turn our backs on the 
things of old while something new is daily being developed or in_ 
vented, the wonder is that in the realms of fashion we see so little 
purely original. But, like a poor horse in a tread-mill, she goes 
the same circuit, and about every fifty years she finds the end, and 
is compelled to return and reproduce, with some strange additions 
but few improvements, the styles our grandmothers and great-grand- 
mothers wore. The high heels, hoops, trains and panniers are but 
the renewal of the fashions of a semi-barbarous age, which, once 
buried, should never have been revived. 

Addison, in many of his writings — see particularly papers ninety- 
eight and one hundred and twenty-seven in the" Spectator" — severely 
criticises the prevailing fashions of his day. Many of these de- 
formities our better instructed women have for a year or two past 
again most foolishly reproduced. We may not quote his articles, 
because the homely language of that period would shock our 
greater refinement, although, if it could be arranged for opera or 
theater, his wholesome counsels might be listened to in public with- 
out a blush, but it would be vulgarity to print them in a book for 
the home. 

There is much to be said, aside from the absurdity of the style 
and its destruction of all grace and beauty, of the great extrava- 
gance which must attend the present fashions, breaking up many 
homes, and alienating true love, and the permanent injury done to 
health, subjecting its devotees to long years, perhaps, of discomfort 
and lingering sufferings or an early grave. 



352 ^'JIE SUREST REMEDY. 



THE SUREST REMEDY. 

To the troubles and annoyances which befall housekeepers there 
is no end, if they are obliged to rely on servants for comfort and 
peace of mind. In social gatherings, the conversation often turns 
on the trials they experience from this part of their house- 
hold. It is not at all strange that it should be so, for, "out of the 
abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh ;" and verily in this 
particular the heart has ample reasons for being abundantly filled, 
and there is no end to just cause of complaint. 

One girl is a good worker but impudent; another is always will- 
ing, but very untidy. This one is neat, but so slow that her work 
is never finished. That one is unequaled in order and efficiency, 
but her temper is so uncertain you can not make a suggestion with- 
out risking a storm that quite destroys all the pleasure her excel- 
lent work might otherwise afford you. One is extravagant and 
wasteful; another, economical in using materials for your family, 
but dishonest in appropriating your property for her own benefit. 

So, in a company of a dozen ladies, one takes up the discourse as 
the other ends, and, without exaggeration, proves her own trials even 
more vexatious than her neighbors'. It is possible that the mis- 
tress, by searching, may find some slight symptoms of these very 
defects in her own character. The least said on that side of the 
question the better, perhaps. But, as we once heard a lady say, 
" We don't hire servants for that sort of actions." 

But whatever may be the defects of the mistress, we know there 
are very strong foundations on which to build the complaints about 
servants; for it can not be denied that these " troublesome comforts" 
have it in their power to diminish the sum of domestic happiness to 
a degree which requires much grace and patience to endure with 
equanimity ; and that the power they have usurped is on the in- 
crease will not, we imagine, be gainsaid. Once the employes in the 
family fully understood the position they were engaged to fill in 
their employer's house, and knew that certain service was paid for, 
which must be strictly and honestly rendered or they would lose 



THE SUREST REMEDY. 353 

their place, and, having lost it unreconimended, would find it diffi- 
cult to secure another. Once — and the time is not so far distant 
but tliat most of us can still remember it — one girl was expected 
to do the work that we are now com])elled to emj)loy three to do. 
And this one girl did the work, and did it well — far better than we 
can hope to have it done now. She was not injured by it; no com- 
plaints were made, we mean in ordinary cases. In every stati<^n some 
may be found who abuse power, and cruelly oppresss those whom cir- 
cumstances have placed in an inferior position, but these are only 
solitary cases ; as a general thing, there was no ground for com- 
plaint. The service was kindly and cheerfully rendered. But now, 
with three or four girls, the work drags, is imperfectly done, and 
"the work is too hard," is the constant cry. Why is this? What 
reason can be assigned for a change so complete and annoying? 

In part because the foreigners who laud on our shores, and upon 
whom, unfortunately, we are obliged to depend for all labor which 
we can not do ourselves, come to us with strange ideas of what is; 
meant by all being "free and equal;" or, if you take one right from* 
the emigrant vessel, it requires but a few weeks for those of their 
nation who, having been here longer, think themselves better in- 
formed, to impart their knowledge, and teach erroneous ideas of 
these rights. Under such bad influence, it takes but a short time 
for the modest stranger, whom you received into your house andi 
endeavored to teach a correct mode of labor, to be transformed',, 
both in dress and manners, into a bold, self-willed girl. Her coun- 
trywomen gather about her and warn her not to be " put upon " — 
a favorite phrase among those whose chief aim is to get the highest 
price for the least labor. "Stand up for your rights," and they 
proceed to expound a code of "rights" which, if they were allowed 
to carry into practice, would soon leave us entirely at their mercy. 

They are told to insist upon just so many times at church, and 
certain days "out." Then the funerals — and there never was such 
mortality as is always happening among our servants' relations, par- 
ticularly the cousins — and the weddings, and the baptism of infants 
for which our girls are to stand " sponsors," all come upon us in 
such quick succession that one can not help thinking weddings? 
births and funerals, among the Irish particularly, are rather 



354 ' THE SUREST REMEDY. 

mythical. Then eveiy step of the work each girl is expected to do 
must be carefully defined, and you are not to be allowed to call 
upon them, on any condition, for one thing over and above the spec- 
ified labor. 

But how has this class of persons succeeded in taking and main- 
taining such a stand ? In part it has grown up, gradually, from 
seeing in their employers the independence that is a distinctive pecu- 
liarity in our national character, and that which, when rightly 
regulated, is a noble thing; when used by uninformed and undis- 
ciplined minds, for selfish ends, is not likely to bring forth the most 
desirable results. 

But is not the trouble and disturbance through our servants, 
which particularly characterizes the present day, in part the fault of 
the mistress's own ignorance ? Our ladies give much less attention 
to domestic affairs than in former times ; and our young ladies are 
growing up, for the most part, poor housekeepers. The material for 
the very best of servants may be easily ruined by a poor mistress. 
Much time and money is expended on the education of our girls ; 
but that part of education which would help to keep them strong 
and healthful is almost entirely ignored — we mean regular work at 
stated times, about the house, not only to establish good health, but 
to secure a thorough knowledge of domestic operations. 

But what time has a young girl to do any thing at home? True. 
What time for home affairs, with the present mode of education 
and the present customs of social life, have young men or maidens? 
Our teachers know they are expected to "fill" their pupils to the 
utmost extent of the mental capacity, and social life grasps every 
moment that can be spared from books or schools, even claiming the 
hours that should be given to sleep. No matter about the health. 
"That is not our business," says the educator; and, "that is not 
our business," echoes fashion. Our children go from one study to 
another — rushing on to be educated — as fast as possible, and in two 
years after leaving college or seminary, of what practical use will 
half these studies — for which they have given so much time and 
ihealth — be to them ? Far be it from us to undervalue a good, thor- 
ough, practical education — one that will fit our boys and girls to 
lead good, useful lives. "It's price is above rubies." But we some- 



THE SUREST REMEDY. ' 355 

times think that they are being educated to death ; mind and body 
enfeebled and made unhealthy for lack of good, practical common 
sense on the part of parents and teachers. If more time was given 
to physical labor while our children are growing up, and less time 
to schools, and fewer studies crowded into each term, the fathers 
and mothers would not grow old so fast — by being relieved of part 
of their work — and our young people would have nobler minds in 
sounder bodies. 

But to return to housekeeping and the young who must take 
that position. Let them secure as much knowledge as they can 
without injury to health, but let it be understood that whatever 
place they may be called upon to occupy, a thorough domestic edu- 
cation will be the best foundation on which to build, and by which 
they can best secure happiness, honor and usefulness. 

Instead of filling the papers with lamentations because they are 
not permitted certain rights which an unregulated ambition urges 
them to claim, let our women jinsf be certain that they fully under- 
stand ho'v to exercise all the r'ujlxt^ which are unalienably their 
own, and which no one attempts to dispute. Let these rights be 
well cared for and properly executed, and who will object to any 
woman's reaching out after and securing just as many more as she 
can possibly assume and manage successfully without neglect of 
other duties already her own. Let the highest right, the noblest 
that woman can desire — f»)r it is next to the angels' — the supreme 
right which God gave us, and no man disputes or can ursurp, be 
fully appreciated and acted upon, the right to make a glorious home, 
to make our husbands nobler, because they are happy and comfort- 
able there — (they don'i, know how to do that — they can't take care 
of themselves vithout us) — the right to nurse and rear and bless 
our children; the right, with the ability, to teach our servants by 
our own practice how to be a blessing to themselves and to us. 
Then enter the lists, if you choose, and do battle for just as many 
of what has been called vmn's rights as you are capable of manag- 
ing well or have any ambition for. 

Until these first duties are understood and properly performed the 
prospects for home comforts and happiness are very shadowy. The 
fault is not wholly with the servants. If those duties which be- 



356 * A REVIEW. 

long to the mistress are delegated to uneducated, ill-informed sub- 
ordinates, what, even with the very best intentions, can you expect 
but anarchy and misrule? Care and experience are as essential in 
good housekeeping and home comforts as in any other profession or 
field of labor. 

The lawyer can not look for success in his profession if he simply 
opens an office and delegates the care to an ignorant office-boy, 
while he himself knows nothing about law, and never studies. The 
doctor gives years of time and study before he attempts to practice. 
The merchant goes through a long apprenticeship before he com- 
mences business for himself; but our young girls leave the school- 
room to assume a right of which they know nothing — the jDrivilege 
and honor of making a home. If women would only understand 
how much skill and power is requisite, what a noble, honorable 
thing it is to succeed, or become eminent as a home-maker, there 
would be fewer boarding-houses, fewer miserable, dissipated hus- 
bands, fewer fast, wild, reckless children, and fewer worthless 
servants. 



A REVIEW. 



At the risk of repeating suggestions already made in these pages, 
by request, and because it seems beneficial, we look back over the 
years that are past, not to repine, but that by reviewing the les- 
sons given and received, the work that has been attempted, " take 
up such stitches" as may have been dropped on the way, or im- 
prove and enlarge both the teaching and thep ractice. Besides, 
"line upon line, and precept upon precept," is desirable in almost 
all new positions ; but in household instructions, it is invaluable 
for the young mistress as well as for the heedless maid. 

"A young, very young, housekeeper" writes: "I have just 
begun to keep house, and with only my husband and myself. I feel 
as if I v^ere playing househeeping, as I used to when a little girl — 
only in the present case I find it will not answer to pass over or 



A REVIEW. 357 

neglect any thing, as I did then. I am but seventeen — have been 
married but a few months. We did not like the idea of boarding, 
and although I was ignorant of almost all domestic affairs, my hus- 
band preferred to risk my ignorance and bear with my mistakes, 
rather than secure better fare by relinquishing a home of our own. 

" Now, Mrs. B , I am not so much troubled about the large 

duties that belong to housekeeping— those which seem to be, and 
doubtless are, of the most importance. Little by little I shall, I 
think, understand them, because, being important, I mitst give them 
time and thought. But it is the little things that vex and disturb 
me. They are so insignificant, apparently, that, if neglected now 
and then, it hardly appears possible that they will be noticed or do 
much harm. But, to my surprise, if careless for a day or two in 
these little duties, an amount of mischief accumulates, which, before 
I am aware, becomes a huge blot, on my character as a good house- 
keeper, and causes me an immense deal of mortification. Oh, 
those little things! The dusting, looking into corners, keeping look- 
ing-glasses and windows in a pi'oper condition and the finger-marks 
off" the doors — it is these minor cares which give me most trouble 
and annoyance. When a girl, I was never accustomed to such 
work, and now often forget all about it, until, in a day or two, I 
"wake up to find my cosy, cheerful-looking rooms begin to look like 
some 'banquet-hall deserted.' Do tell me all about every thing! 
Even when I don't forget, I fear I don't understand how to do these 
things well. I want to be a good housekeeper, or, as you say, 
' home-maker; ' but to-night I feel quite discouraged, and would like 
to lay my head in my mother's lap and cry like a child. I am 
nothing but a child, anyhow." 

That is true, my dear. You should have had the proper pleasures 
and freedom of youthsome years longer. Seventeen is too young to 
take up life's burdens and bare its responsibilities, out from the 
shelter of a mother's arms. The full assumption of such duties 
should have been deferred to a later period, when body and mind had 
become more mature, and better able to perform a true woman's 
full duties. But, having assumed these responsibilities, you are 
looking at them in the right spirit; and if your strength is not 
overtaxed, and you become not weary in well-doing, you have no 



358 A BEVIEW. 

cause for discouragement. By degrees, as you endeavor to under- 
stand and try to perform your duties in the best manner, you 
will learn, by experience and observation, to know when you 
fail, and, that once understood, you will not be likely to repeat the 
failure. 

We have quoted largely from this letter, because, through it, we 
think mothers may, if they will, learn a very important lesson. There 
are mothers who do not need this suggestion, for they fully under- 
stand and scrupulously practice that which we desire to teach. 
Their daughters' future happiness is very precious to them ; and to 
insure it, they do not think it wise or loving to allow them to frit- 
ter away their young lives in a round of giddy, unsatisfac torypleas- 
ures — in idle calls, silly gossiping, which soon grows to scandal- 
loving, late hours, and unhealthy dissipation. But with loving 
care they so combine usefulness and pleasure that, look where you 
will, you will find no specimens of happy girlhood as such mothers 
show you in their daughters. They do not exact so much labor as 
to create disgust, nor consent to so large an amount of pleasure as to 
make their daughters irritable and dissatisfied at home, giving 
their assistance to their mothers grudgingly, or so disrespectfully 
that it is not worth accepting. These mothers are training their 
girls to become good wives and mothers, excellent housekeepers 
and very happy women. Their daughters will never feel the dis- 
couragement that the " very young housekeeper," from whose letter 
we quote, can not avoid feeling at times. But all must, in this 
case, admire the courage with which she is ready to overcome the 
obstacles that her ignorance must, of course, often put in her way ; 
and we rejoice that there are still some among our young people 
willing to submit to the inconvenience of many mistakes rather 
than to begin their married life in a boarding-house. Viewed in the 
right spirit, and with a love which finds a silver lining to every 
cloud and a full compensation for every cross, it will take but a 
short time for one, however ignorant, to become an accomplished 
housekeeper — the happy mistress of a home which any husband 
may be proud of and grateful for. We will, in our next "talk," 
try to give some simple rules for the easy performance of those 
*' little things" which so heavily oppress our young friend. 



HEEDLESSNESS. 359 

Meanwhile, can not the multitude of mothers who neglect to 
prepare their daughters for the duties which, doubtless, lie before 
them, be brought to realize how much trouble and perplexity, if not 
lite-long unhappiness, they arc laying up for them, by this neglect 
of unmistakable duties? By the loss of healthful, bracing exercise, by 
late hours, and unsuitable dress and exposure, their health is broken 
before they are out of their teens, and they enter the married 
state with no strength to take up the duties they have accepted, 
and totally ignorant of the first principles of domestic economy. 
They are more sinned against than sinning, and must suffer for 
their mothers' neglect or over-indulgence. They suffer from their 
mothers' mistakes; but the mothers must be accounted the most 
blameworthy, for they knew their duty, but did it not. 



HEEDLESSNESS. 



There are many annoyances that fall to a housekeeper's lot, 
which seem very insignificant when spoken uf, and to otrivial to 
put on paper; but they are grievances, nevertheless, and like a 
wasp's or bee's sting, though small, not easily borne; and when 
they follow each other in quick succession, and are constantly re- 
peated, the accumulation, like a whole swarm of bees, will tax the 
grace and patience of the strongest. It is the little frets of daily 
life that, when summed up, become almost unendurable, and to 
them is added the mortification of knowing that friends who are 
only "lookers on," having never themselves touched the burden 
with so much as their little finger, feel no sympathy, but, on the 
contrary, almost a good-natured contempt, that any one is so weak 
as to be shaken by such venj fri/^mr/ troubles and vexations. But 
they are not trifling — if they were only occasional, they would be — 
but they are of daily, hourly occurrence, and because they are never- 
ending, make a housekeeper's responsible position one that demands 
self-control and patience of a higher order than any other position 
to which woman aspires. There is a dignity in being burnt at the 



360 HEEDLESSNESS. 

stake that enables one to rise above the pain ; but to be hurried to 
death with briars and brambles is very humiliating, yet a torture 
none the less. 

It is by calling attention to the cause of these petty vexations, 
and endeavoring to show how they must be overcome and eradi- 
cated, that we hope to do any good by these " talks." 

Many things that are really untidy are not noticed until, through 
this neglect, they increase, and at last cause great confusion in the 
home affairs, simply because the young housekeeper's attention has 
not been called to them, or she does not yet understand how to 
regulate and control them. Ignorance may be bliss, but it is of a 
nature that leads to mischief in the end. 

Let us point out some of these petty troubles, and see what they 
amount to, and how they may be removed. 

What more disagreeable and annoying than to have the vapors 
or odors that arise from washing or cooking pervade the whole 
house, giving to it the sickening smell of the lowest class boarding- 
houses? When seated quietly in the parlor, it comes so gradually 
upon one that it is hardly noticed ; but step for a moment into the 
fresh air, and on your return you will be greatl}' disgusted at the 
fumes that half suffocate you as you open the door. This inflic- 
tion can be escaped only by keeping the doors of the kitchen or 
hall leading from it tightly closed. Yet it seems almost impos- 
sible to teach a servant that just "pushing the door to" is not 
shutting it, and the smells of the kitchen will escape as readily 
through a half-closed as through an open door. Yet there is no 
help for this evil but watchfulness and constant reminder. You 
can put springs or rubber-straps on the door, and while they are 
new and stiff they will swing to with force enough to close it ; but 
the spring will soon grow careless, like other servants, and by-and-by 
not shut the door entirely. As well leave it wide open as "ajar." 
Besides, " springs" are very troublesome and inconvenient, and in 
passing and repassing, with the hands full, endanger the dishes. 
And, worse than all, we have noticed that "springs" on the doors 
have, a singularly inflammatory effect on the disposition of the serv- 
ants, and, after being hit or breaking a few dishes once or twice by 
them, the "springs" suddenly break or are cut. Of course it broke 



HEEDLESSNESS. 361 

iUelf, or nobody — that most mysterious mischief-maker — did it. The 
watch and care of the mistress is the only remedy. 

Another careless habit wiiich often presses a great grief of heart 
to the thorough housekeeper, and to which the attention of the be- 
ginner sliould be directed from the first, is the U!«e of dish-towels 
and dish-cloths instead of "holders" to remove pots, stew-pans and 
kettles from the fire, or meats and pies from the oven. It is a 
habit that is harder to conquer than almost any other. The most 
ample supply of holders may be provided, yet the' mistress seldom 
enters the kitchen but she sees the nice crash-towel caught up to 
remove a boiling pot from the stove, or a gridiron from the fire ; and 
if it is not tossed into the sink, scorched and smeared, it is a marvel. 
And the " holder" you had so neatly made but a few days before, 
now amass of grease, stove-crock and filth, is perhaps lying in the 
coal-hod ready to be thrown into the fire, where you will be the 
least likely to find it out ; for to wash a holder never enters into the 
heads of those who use, or rather abuse, them so badly. 

A cooFs holder should be made of some strong, dark material, a 
piece of tape about a half yard long, sewed on one corner, and a 
large hook on the tape to hook into a cook's belt or apron-string. . 
They are then always ready for use. 

"And will she remember to use them?" 

Doubtful ; certainly not without your watchful care. But be sure 
and have them ready, and then strictly endeavor to secure their 
proper use. 

The ironing-holder should be of soft, light-colored material, that 
dirt and stains may bear testimony against its use about clean 
clothes till it is washed. Harsh material is severe on the hands 
when used for hours on a hot iron. When out of use, the ironing- 
holder must be put away with the ironing-sheet, bosom-board, etc., 
that they may not be used in the kitchen. 

Again : Watch the dish-towels, see that they are not thrown on 
the floor, or into a chair to be sat on by the first one who happens 
in, and, perhaps, the next minute used to wipe the fine china, or 
-cover over the bread fresh from the oven. Such things are con- 
stantly being done. Do our housekeepers know it? Of course 
they never do such things themselves; but if they once gave it a 



362 PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT. 

moment's sober thought, would they not, for their own comfort, en- 
deavor to prevent its being done again ? Who would wish to eat 
or drink from china v/iped with towels so misused ? Who would 
like to eat bread that had been wrapped up in a dish-towel, how- 
ever clean ? They should be washed and boiled every day after the 
dinner dishes are out of the way, hung out to dry, and fresh, clean 
ones used at tea, and till after dinner the next day, when the first 
set are brought in for the dishes, and the second washed, boiled, 
and hung out, thus securing clean towels for each day. But na 
matter how faithfully this rule may be carried out, no dish-towel 
should ever be used for bread, no bread-cloth should be used to 
wipe meat, no meat-cloth used for fish. Each contracts a taste or 
smell belonging to its own peculiar work, and each should be 
marked and employed for its own appropriate use and no oilier. 



PRACTICE ISiAKES PERFECT. 

With an open grate or fire-place in daily use it is very necessary^ 
before any dusting can be thought of, to clear out the grate, re- 
move the ashes, and kindle the fire; for nothing so fills a room with 
dust as the necessatt-y work about a fire of any kind, even with the 
most careful management. To be ready to do this, or in a condi- 
tion to instruct a girl how to do it, it is important that the neces- 
sary implements and conveniences should be on hand, and in a 
suitable condition for easy and successful operation. 

And, first, a coarse piece of bagging, or an old bit of carpeting, 
or, if you have neither, a large piece of stout, brown wrapping- 
paper, should be kept in an appropriate place, ready for this part 
of the morning's work ; even old newspapers will answer, though by 
no means as convenient or durable as bagging. Spread a large 
strip before the grate or fire-place to protect the oil-cloth or carpet 
from ashes and cinders while you are clearing out the grates. This 
done, lift up the ''fender" or polished hearth-piece, always in front 
of a grate, and set it down on the floor-cloth or bagging. Put up- 



PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT. 363 

the " blower" and with the poker rake out all the ashes that can be 
shaken from the under part of the grate. By keeping tlie blower 
up \Yhile doing this, most of the ashes, which would otherwise float 
. over the room, lodge in the furniture or carpet, and in the end do 
them much injury, will be made to fly up the chimney. Having 
removed all the ashes, you can with the blower up, take it down, 
and rake again smartly from the fop until only the half-burnt coals 
remain. 

Now, with a stout, coarse holder, kept expressly for that purpose, 
take the ash-pan, full of ashes, from under the grate, and empty in 
an ash-barrel in the cellar or out-doors ; but by no means shove 
them from the pan into an empty coal-hod in the room, as is too 
often done. Be careful that no live coals go into the barrel. You 
will be obliged to watch a girl very carefully about this "little thing," 
or, under the silly idea that it saves work, most girls will do this 
when you are not by, and your rooms will be filled with ashes by 
their folly. 

When the ashes have been emptied, if your grate rests on cleats, 
or is fitted into sockets, lift it ofl', and turn the half-burned coals 
which remain into the ash-pan, to be taken out and sifted before 
using again ; then placing the grate on the bagging, with a small 
whisk-broom proceed to brush down into the pan all the soot and 
ashes that have lodged on the sides and back of the fire-place. Do 
this gently, so as to avoid sending it out into the room. When 
done, remove the pan, sweep up any ashes or litter that may be on 
the hearth, w^ash it clean, and put back the grate and ash-pan into 
their proper places. Set up the ^^ fender," roll up a quantity of 
waste-paper and put into the grate (if thrown in loosely it will burn 
out instantly before the kindling catches), put on the kindling, and 
start the fire. If where you can get "cofe" from the gas-houses 
for the foundation of the fire, it will, we think, prove good econ- 
omy, for you will need but two or three pieces of kindlings, as it 
ignites readily without a blower, making a very warm fire, soon 
causing the hard coal to burn brightly. 

Here, also, great watchfulness is requisite if you trust to a serv- 
ant to start fires; for, unless closely followed, they will persist in 
half-filling the grate with kindling, even when they are provided 



364 PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT. 

with coke and need to use but very little wood. In the city, 
where wood is so dear, economy in kindling-wood becomes quite 
important. 

The fire having been kindled, the rooms can now be set in order. 
Of course, the window-blinds were opened the first thing after dress- 
ing in the morning, that gas or lamps might not be left to burn 
needlessly. We are tempted to stop, before dusting, and say a word 
on the extravagant use of gas or oil by the servants about a house; 
but we must leave that for another time, and proceed to finish the 
first part of every morning's work. 

In dusting, a soft but not too fine cloth should be first used. At 
almost all dry-goods stores cloths are to be had with soft, tufted 
nap, designed especially for dusters ; but an old towel may be kept 
for that purpose, and answers very well if you can not obtain these. 
Gently wipe up with the dusting-cloth whatever ashes or dust may 
have settled over the mantel or furniture, but do not wipe it off on 
to the floor to settle again into the carpet or all articles in the 
room — that would be spending time for naught — but as you pro- 
ceed take it up into the dust-cloth, and every little while shake 
it out of the window or door. In this way go over every thing 
once, that the greatest part of the dust may be disposed of, being 
particular to wipe in and around moldings, carvings and cornices, 
where dust seems more inclined to rest than on the plainer surfaces. 

This finished, go over all again with an old silk handkerchief or 
chamois-skin, rubbing hard enough to remove all spots or finger- 
marks, and have a nice, clean polish on the furniture or ornaments 
in the room. If you have pictures hung round the walls, a long- 
handled feather-brush is quite necessary, especially if the room is 
high-studded, as most rooms are, unfortunately, at the present day. 
You can not spare the time every morning to bring in a step-ladder 
in order to dust the tops of the picture-frames or the casings or 
moldings over and around doors and windows; but, if left some 
days untouched, the moths will soon find it out and take up their 
abode in such desirable quarters. The long feather-brush will 
easily remove most of the light dirt that settles in such high places; 
but do not use it with a sharp, quick flourish, as whatever dust 
lodges so high can not be taken up with the coarse dusting-cloth, 



PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT. 3(j5 

and must, of course, if disturbed, fall to the floor, but, if brushed 
ofi" rashly, will fly over every thing. For this reason the tops of 
pictures and doors should be dusted first, that there may be an 
opportunity to remove whatever settles unavoidably when going 
over other parts of the room. , 

Every three or four weeks the tall step-ladder is needed, and 
then all these places which can not be reached otherwise must be 
well rubbed, and the casings of windows and doors wiped clean 
with a wet cloth. This work, when done, must always be after 
the regular sweeping days. , 

Windows require attention every day ; we do not mean to be 
washed every day, but to be dusted and have the .spots carefully 
rubbed off*. The dust from the streets finds easy entrance, and set- 
tles readily on the window-panes, which would soon become dim and 
blurred without daily oversight. Especially is this the case in 
damp weather or when one lives near salt air. Brush each window 
with a short-handled feather-brush, if you have or can get one; if 
not, save and dry turkeys' wings, or the long tail-feathers from any 
poultry, tie them up neatly, and you secure an inexpensive feather- 
brush, and as effective as if bought at the store. If you find spots 
or finger-marks on the window-glass, put your mouth to the spot 
and breathe sharply on it; then, before your breath evaporates, 
rub quickly with a clean linen cloth or a chamois-skin, and you will 
be well repaid for your labor. 

It requires some time and many words to explain as minutely as 
you wish how all these little things should be done; but if you are 
methodical, you will soon learn to work quickly, as well as thor- 
oughly, and will be very much surprised to see how short a time 
is needed to do all that is required. You will use less time, take 
the month through, by careful dusting and necessary cleaning each 
day, than, neglecting this duty, you would be compelled to give 
every few weeks in one great cleaning eflTort, by which the whole 
family must be incommoded, meals delayed, poorly cooked, or dis- 
pensed with altogether for the time being, because it is "cleaning 
day." No wonder husbands shrink from such days, preferring dirty 
rooms all the time to clean ones — only a little while — for which they 
pay such unsatisfactory premiums. A little quiet care and cleaning 



366 SO USE- CLEANING. 

every day will, we think, secure the largest amount of freedom, 
and certainly much more pleasure and happiness for all, than these 
dreaded days of confusion and discomfort. 



HOUSE-CLEANESTG. 



"Last year I thought house-deaning would be 'real fun;' I had 
never before taken the entire charge of such extensive operations, 
and thought, in my simplicity, that I would show the old ladies how 
a smart young housekeeper would walk through the fiery furnace 
with not even the smell of fire upon her garments. But I little 
dreamed what I had undertaken, I found out, however, before 
the 'fun' was ended, to my entire satisfaction, and now, in this 
my second year of housekeeping, look forward to the ' spring clean- 
ing' with the greatest repugnance, gladly enduring all the cold, 
the winds and storms of early spring, because they postponed the 
evil day. But now milder weather and warmer suns are upon us, 
and this great nuisance may be no longer deferred. How I dread 
it! No regularity; all rules abolished; servants rebellious; hus- 
band — to 'put the finest point upon it' — uncomfortable; baby cross, 
and I — the crossest of all! Oh, dear! What shall I do?" 

What shall you do? Take it easy. Patience, my child; the oldest 
panacea is still the sovereign cure for such trials. But why " bor- 
row trouble?" For weeks you have, in imagination, been carrying 
this burden which you so much dread. Wait till the proper time 
comes to take it up. Give each hour its own work ; do not per- 
mit, yourself to groan over that which belongs to the next, and you 
will find the heaviest and most disagreeable labor, if arranged and 
performed systematically, glide smoothly through your hands, and, 
when finished, will look back in amused surprise at the "bugbear** 
you had conjured up to torment you. 

True, what is generally understood as regular "spring house- 
cleaning" is not a pleasant operation; but is it absolutely necessary 
that this important part of household duties should be made a terror 



HO USE- CLEANING. 367 

to all in the house ? We think not. When furnace, grates and stoves 
have been in constant use for six or seven months, and gas or 
lamps are burning many hours each night, a very thorough house- 
cleaning is indispensable. No care can prevent smoke, ashes and 
gas defacing walls and ceiling, and finding a lodgment in carpets 
and furniture all over the house. And it is necessary that the 
warm spring days should be devoted to cleaning and renovating; 
but certainly not to the exclusion of real home comforts and pleas- 
ures while this work is in progress. It is folly to commence by 
putting the whole house into disorder; displacing every thing; 
leaving no room in habitable condition, that by-and-by you may, 
from this utter desolation, bring order out of confusion. 

It is best to commence with the cellar, and the first thing to be 
done is to have your coal for the year put in. It is usually as 
cheap, and often cheaper, in the spring than in the fall. The coal 
safely housed, have the furnace emptied and put in thorough re- 
pair. Remove all the ashes. If you have an ash-vault or bin con- 
taining the ashes of the whole winter, you will require a man to 
do it ; but if — which is much wiser— the ashes have been sifted and 
removed every day, it is no burden, and but a few minutes work. 
Then all bits of waste-boards, boxes and barrels, no longer useable, 
should be chopped fine and stored with the kindling-wood. 

If dust and cobwebs have been overlooked, brush them down 
very carefully; sweep the cellar bottom, and if of stone or cemented, 
scrub it clean. If this has been done every week, as it should be — 
save the putting in coal and rej)airing the furnace — it will be only 
a piece of regular work, but it must be done before any other clean- 
ing is attempted, else the coal-dust and ashes will penetrate every 
part of the house, and render all your labor useless. No door or 
window can be shut so closely that they will not force an entrance. 
Be careful to shut the "registers" from the furnace in every room 
before moving ashes or coal. 

The cellar being in order, the next step is to the attic. If it has 
been properly attended to through the winter, it is no hard task to 
make it fresh and clean, unless you allow it to be made the "catch- 
all" for all kinds of useless trash. If not "hard finished," the 
walls should be nicely white-washed or calcimined after the attic 



368 HOUSE-CLEANING. 

has been swept and dusted. This done, scrub the floor faithfully,* 
polish the windows, and arrange all that properly belongs to the 
iattic neatly. If you have pieces of carpeting stored there, they 
should be taken into the back yard, well brushed, and spread on the 
grass or hung on the line, the first thing, before the cleaning is 
begun. 

The cellar and attic in order, you are ready for the upper cham- 
bers. If you can aff()rd it, it is well to secure four good house- 
cleaners, and, by putting two in one chamber and two in another, 
keeping up a quiet but vigilant superintendence of both parties, you 
will find, if the work is well contrived, and each part arranged in 
regular succession, it will be done more quickly, more effectually, 
and with more economy, than to endeavor to drag through with 
little help. 

Ingrain and three-ply carpets must be lifted every year, and that 
is the first thing to be done. Brussels and velvet do not need to 
be taken up oftener than every two years; while heavy Wiltons, 
Ax minster, and Moquetts should not be removed oftener than every 
three years. The texture is so firm, no dust works through to the 
carpet-lining beneath; and faithful sweeping and thorough use of 
the "carpet-sweeper" will remove the dust and moths' eggs. Extra 
care will be required to clean and brush in corners, and wherever 
the carpet is turned in and nailed ; and they must also be pro- 
tected, while the walls, ceiling and wood-work is being cleaned, by 
a heavy drugget spread over them, and moved from place to place 
as the cleaning progresses. 

When washing painted walls and ceilings, take care that in dry- 
ing them that they are wiped in straight lines, from top to bottom, 
and not unevenly or in circles ; for, however clean you may wash 
the paint, careless wiping will give it a streaked and untidy 
appearance. 



"/ WONDER WHAT NEXT/" 369 



"I WONDER WHAT NEXT!" 

"I have been hard at work all day; up stairs and down; from 
the cellar to the attic; looking into every nook and coiner, and 
♦putting things to rights' generally. Oh, dear! I wonder ivhat next 
those prim old housekeepers would expect me to take hold of? I 
have every thing in good running order, as far as I can see, and 
now how I would like to take a book and curl up somewhere ; out 
of sight and hearing, and have one of the old-fashioned, good times 
I used to have before I was married. 

" Well, I don't care. I mean to have it, anyhow, and just let things 
go on without my watching for awhile. Nora can manage to keep 
the house in order somehmv, now I have every thing in its right 
place, I am sure." 

Ah ! but my dear little woman, if you do not give daily atten- 
tion to your household affairs, in a few days, under Nora's rule,, 
you will find the machinery all out of order, and be compelled! 
again to go over the same wearisome labor you now complain of. 

"What then am I to do? From this time on, is my life to be a 
perpetual urudgery?" 

No; not if you are wise. Be patient. It is a new thing to you 
now. Care does not set lightly on young shoulders ; but time 
and a reasonable amount of patience will soon make the "crooked! 
ways straight and the rough places smooth." A few weeks of extra 
time and thought, at the beginning of your new life, will teach you 
how to work methodically. Until this lesson is fixed in your mind, 
it will be "up-hill work; " but persevere. Have a regular plan for 
each day's work, and every step will be easier and more natural. 

There is nothing like method and regularity to lighten labor. 
We have so many poor, discouraged, repining housekeepers, chiefly 
because they were not taught from the beginning to work method- 
ically. Let this once become a fixed habit, and almost every one 
can find leisure for reading and recreation, certainly if in a posi- 
tion where they can delegate the hardest, roughest labor, under 
suitable supervision, to a servant, 

24 



370 "ORDER IS HE A YEN'S FIRST LA W." 

Secure a few moments every evening, to think over and arrauge 
for the necessary hibor of the morrow. Bring before your mind just 
what ought to be done, and fix the mode and time for doing it, dis- 
tinctly. While dressing the next morning, review your plan, that 
all through the day it may be like a map, spread out before your 
eyes. Of course, many things may occur that no foresight could 
provide for — sickness, unexpected company, or interruptions past 
your control — but nothing that can Avholly derange a well-digested 
plan for every day's duties. 

Try this mode of working resolutely for a few months, and labor, 
or oversight of labor, "\vill become so nearly a "second nature" 
that you will arrange or perform, almost instinctively or with 
pleasure, that which now seems a heavy burden, grievous to be 
borne. 



"ORDER IS HEAVEN'S FIRST LAW." 

Every housekeeper has her own system for apportioning the wwrk 
of her servants. Where there are three girls, many prefer that the 
cook should take charge of the washing, leaving either waiter or 
chambermaid to do the cooking, Mondays and Tuesdays. If they 
are tolerable plain cooks, this may answer ; but, generally, on those 
two days the table is less pleasantly served than during the remain- 
der of the week. 

Now, we prefer to feel as sure of a well-cooked and well-served 
dinner on "ivashing-day" as on any other day in tlie week. For 
that reason, we think it a more excellent way to have the cook 
understand that the kitchen, pantries and cooking are her own espe- 
cial care; from which, until that woi'k is done, she is not to be 
called to assist in any thing else. This plan, we think, insures a 
more orderly kitchen, cleaner pantries and better cooked and more 
Tegular meals than when the cooking work is given over two days 
in the week to one less accustomed to it. We see no good reason 
why, if company happens in unexpectedly, one should not be as 



"ORDER IS HEA VEN'S FIRST LA W." 37] 

well prepared to serve them on Monday as on Wednesday or 
Thursday. By giving the washing into the care of the second 
girl, we think one may escape most of the terrors of '^watsJmig- 
day:' 

Early rising should be one of the well-understood rules of the 
house — for the servants, at least. As soon as up, the laundress's 
first work is to light the fire — if the laundry is separate from the 
kitchen ; if not, the cook, of course, attends to that. The furnace 
is then to be well shaken and cleaned out, fresh coal added, and 
the ashes sifted and removed, which, if done every day, as it should 
be, is but a small item comparatively. Sweeping the front stairs, 
hall, doorsteps, sidewalk and gutters, comes next in order. By this 
time the fire and water will be in a proper state to commence wash- 
ing, and that once begun, the laundress should be exempt from any 
other duty, save to feed the furnace, until the washing is finished 
and the clothes brought in and folded. 

On Tuesday the same routine, while the fire is kindling and the 
irons heating; after that the laundress gives her undivided atten- 
tion to her ironing. She should be iip in season to finish sweeping 
stairs, hall, etc., and commence her washing and ironing by seven; 
and then, unless the washing is very large, an ordinarily bright girl 
should have all finished by Tuesday night, and be ready to give her 
full time to the chamber-work — making beds, sweeping, dusting, 
washing windows, etc., during the remainder of the week. 

The waitress is often expected to take charge of the furnace, but 
we can not think it is desirable. If there is a fire to be lighted in 
the parlor or sitting-room— to remove the ashes, wash the hearth, 
and have the rooms dusted and in readiness for the family, and then 
put her table in order, is all that she will be likely to do well. 
Besides, after working in the cellar over the furnace, she can not 
be fit to wait on the table without taking more time to free her hair 
and dress from ashes and dirt than she can spare, if you would have 
the breakfast served promptly. And what is moi-e disgusting than 
an untidy waitress? The waitress should have charge of parlor, 
dining-room, silver, answering the bell — and on Monday and Tues- 
day do the chamber-work. 

Where but two servants are kept — and we are inclined to think 



372 ' SPRING LABOR. 

the fewer servants the better the work is done — of course the two 
must divide the work, each assisting in the washing and ironing, 
but the cook still retaining the charge of the meals. 



SPRING LABOR. 



Moths. — The first few days of April are too near kin to March to 
warrant any decided steps toward the regular spring house-clean- 
ing, but it is quite time now that special attention be paid to motiis 
and their characteristic destructiveness. 

In furnace-heated houses, moths are occasionally found in mid- 
winter; but they are only the advance guard of the main army, 
and do little harm, save by the annoying reminder of what one 
has cause to fear in spring. 

In April they will begin to show themselves very much in earnest; 
and are seen too often for your comfort, particularly after the gas 
or lamp is lighted. If an expert, you may destroy many, as, 
attracted by the bright light, which lures them to destruction, they fly 
around you ; yet enough remains to keep you constantly on the look- 
out. We know of no remedy, when moths have once gained entrance 
to a house, but ceaseless watchfulness. They often deposit their eggs 
in the "fret-work" and open spaces in cornices, as well as in woolens 
and furs, and therefore all such hiding-places should be searched 
after carefully. In high-studded rooms it is difficult to reach these 
sheltered nooks, and therefore in them moths too often find a secure 
retreat. But although difficult, it is not impossible to dislodge 
them, even from these high places. A tall step-ladder, with a little 
care, and some one to steady it at the base, can easily be mounted, 
and, from this height, you readily gain access to your enemies. If 
the carving is deep and intricate, take a quill, and with the feather- 
end, brush out these holes into a dust-pan — follow this brushing 
with a wet cloth wrapped round a pointed stick. It takes time, 
care and patience, but is very necessary. In houses that are not 
often painted, you will probably find large quantities of dust and 



SPRING LABOR. 373 

lint, that have accumulated and settled from sweepings, in the 
cornices. In this the moths deposit their eggs ; and when hatched, 
the worm, which eats your garments, may be found here, snugly 
rolled in its thin covering, or perhaps just ready to fly through your 
house, depositing its eggs — for the next generation of moths. 

A new house, left for months unoccupied, or an old house long 
untenanted, it is said, will surely be overrun with them. For this 
we do not vouch, but are quite inclined to credit it. Our first 
experience of the plague of moths was on taking possession of 
a house, almost new, that had stood empty some months—a 
dearly-bought experience, the debt for which is not fully canceled 
after more than fourteen years. In all the cornice ornaments 
we found large quantities of the eggs and worms snugly laid 
to sleep, till the warm spring sun should rouse them to begin 
their mischievous expeditions among our furs, blankets and gar- 
ments. Many were fully developed, and flying about in search 
of some choice place to deposit their eggs. 

The spring and summer are their busiest time ; and as soon as it 
is warm enough to dispense with furs, heavy shawls and woolen 
garments, they should be well shaken and brushed, then hung on 
the clothes-line and beaten with the furniture tc^/iip; every spot or 
stain cleansed, and repairs attended to before being done up and 
put away for the summer. Each housekeeper has, probably, her 
own theory as to the best way for packing up such articles as 
moths injure. Some put pepper, camphor, cedar-chips, sandal- 
wood, or Lyon's moth-powder among the articles to be stored away, 
and then sew them up in old linen, or closely cover them with 
two or three thicknesses of paper, lapping one over the other, leav- 
ing no holes, and then seal the paper up with mucilage. We pre- 
fer the paper wrappings ; but feel a little safer if we sprinkle 
Lyon's moth-powder over the articles before sealing. 

We have been told that strips of cloth dipped in kerosene, rolled 
up and placed among flannels, furs, etc., which should then be shut 
tight in a cedar trunk or close drawer, will surely prevent moths 
from injuring them, destroying the eggs, or such moth- worms as 
are already in possession. 

This appears sensible, inasmuch as moths are said to be repelled 



374 SPRING LABOR. 

by any pungent, disagreable smell. And surely, if that be so, 
kerosene would be most deadly. 

In carpets, moths generally seek the corners and secluded places. 
For that reason it is essential that in sweeping, at all seasons of the- 
year, one should see that great attention is paid to the corners and 
edges of carpets. Never attempt to sweep there with a common 
broom. You can not get at the corners. Take a wisk-broom, or 
a round, pointed brush, such as is used to clean buttoned furniture, 
called a furniture hutton-hrush, and with it clean out the corners 
where the carpet is turned in. It is also well to have close at hand a 
pointed stick, which, with a cloth wrapped about it, will enable you to 
pry into every nook thoroughly. Every few weeks it is well to draw 
the tacks in the corners a little way, and, turning back the carpet 
on to a thick paper or old cloth, give the edge a faithful brushing. 
It is under and near these corners that moths love to secrete their 
eggs. 

Then there is another place where they love '* to congregate," and 
that is in the " good-for-something " closet, where many people are 
tempted to lay aside a quantity of useless articles or cast-off cloth- 
ing, from a vague economical idea that, pei'haps, they may find a 
use for them — some time. 

We knew a careful father who, if he saw one of the family about 
to throw away any thing, would always say: "Oh, no; I wouldn't 
destroy it. It may be good for something, some day. Just toss it 
into the waste-closet up here" — alow, dark closet under the roof, 
with a crescent cut in the door, through which dim rays of light 
occasionally penetrated; where naughty children were sometimes 
put for punishment, but who found so much hidden treasure among 
the " good-for-soraethings " while in "durance vile," that they 
were in no haste for release. This closet was knoAvn among the 
children as ''father's goodfor-something closet." The only good 
things they ever knew come out of it, however, were rich themes of 
loving raillery at the father's expense, when the good mother was 
compelled to overlook the accumulation of weeks, and have a 
" clearing-up " time. 

We do not like this habit. Articles once thus packed away are 
seldom used, except as shelter for rats, mice and moths. To " look 



TEACH THE BOYS. 375 

over," dust and repack a quantity of useless rubbish time and 
again, is a sad consumer of time and patience. 

When there are so many poor people needing assistance, it is 
wiser and better to give to them those things which you see no 
way of using ; or, if not even worth giving to the poor, it is cer- 
tainly better to destroy them forever. 



TEACH THE BOYS. 



"What an idea! Teach little boys to be useful! I wish you 
would tell me how; for of all the restless, awkward, mischievous, 
troublesome comforts on the face of the earth, I do think boys are 
the most trying. I am. sure I love my boys just as much as I do 
my girls; but it is so much hax'der to manage them, to keep them 
out of mischief, to know what to do with them. They were vex- 
atious enough when we were boarding ; but now when, with four 
children on my hands, I am but just entering upon my novitiate as 
a housekeeper, feeling my way step by step, they fret me woefully. 
They are under my feet all the time. Too young to be sent to 
school more than a few hours a day, or to be turned out to play 
with chance companions unattended, they hang about me, uneasy, 
restless, fractious, teasing for something continually. I often think 
it would be a comfort could we put them on a shelf to sleep through 
the unquiet, turbulent period of childhood, to wake up full-grown 
men. My little girls always can find something to do; but the 
boys — make boys useful, indeed ! It would be a true benefactor wha 
could teach mothers how to accomplish such a marvelous thing! 

** I notice that you very wisely and skillfully combine instruction 
with amusement in your management of your little girls. I watched 
with much interest how pleasantly you were teaching them to be 
useful, while they felt the work to be only amusement. *I wonder 
which of these little girls would like to run and bring mamma a few 
apples ; ' and away^ in great glee, trotted little three-year-old Kitty 
with her little basket. 



376 TEACH THE BOYS. 

"Would Mary like to help mamma pare this nice red apple? 
"Which, think you, can make the largest paring without breaking? 
How happy the little lady was to leave her play and make the trial! 
Why not make the same effort to amuse and instruct your little 
boys?" 

" Would you have me teach them to set the table, wash dishes, 
sew or try to work?" 

Do you not believe they can be taught all this as easily as 
girls? We hold that, in a large family, each one, boy or girl, 
should be taught to be useful; to help their mother in-doors and 
out, and, above all, learn to help themselves. This they can not 
do if allowed to be idle. 

In the city, and in families that depend entirely on hired help, 
it is more difficult to train children to be industrious and useful. It 
is not well to let the )'^oung, imitative little ones be much with serv- 
ants, certainly not unless the mother is there also ; and all instruc- 
tions of a practical nature should be given by her and practiced 
under her eye. Wealth is by no means to be despised ; but when 
it is so employed as to remove all labor from us, or so free us from 
care that we do not teach our children how to make themselves 
serviceable, it is no blessing, and may become a curse. Those who 
have begun life poor, and worked their way to wealth by real 
hard labor, forget, when their children start up around them, how 
much true, solid pleasure was in their struggle for this well-earned 
prosperity, and as they relax their exertions, and begin to feel the 
enervating effects of wealth,* remember only the hardship, forgetting 
the pleasure. Because there is now no absolute necessity for it, 
they shrink from their children following in their early steps, and 
so cheat them out of the strength and independence for which no 
amount of gold can in any way compensate. 

But we are neglecting the boys. We will give you an example 
which will explain somewhat our idea of making children useful — 
boys and girls alike. 

We remember a large family in which there were seven boys. 
They were not driven to work; but from their earliest childhood 
were, little by little, trained to understand and d^ all kinds of out- 
door work pertaining to a large farm; but it was also understood 



TEACH THE BOYS. 377 

that they were to lend a helping hand in-doors whenever the 
mother or sisters needed them. They knew they would only be 
called in when it was quite necessary, but very early recognized the 
importance of knowing how to do any thing that came before them. 
If the mother or sisters were sick or absent, they could so far fill 
up the gup as to keep things comfortable till health was restored. 
They could dress the youngest, make a bed, sweep a room, make a 
cup of tea or coffee, broil a steak, or wash the dishes in a very 
satisfactory manner. 

When quite little, not old enough to understand heavy or rough 
work, they were allowed any amount of play ; but it was ex- 
pected that all but the baby must do something useful, something 
that was work, in the course of each day. So, little by little, as 
they trotted about after mother, they gathered up something which, 
in mature life, was of great value. 

The family lived some miles from church, and as it was custom- 
ary to have preaching in the morning and afternoon — with Sabbath- 
school between them — they took a slight lunch of crackers or ginger- 
bread, stayed through all, and returned in season for a late dinner 
.and tea united. Now, it was a settled rule that the parents and 
part of the children should go to church every Sunday, rain or 
shine; and the oldest children, boys and girls, ''took turns" in 
staying at home to get dinner and take care of the baby. 

They all took great pride in having every thing in order, and a 
^ood dinner all ready when the church-goers returned; and the 
boys' housekeeping was as creditable as the girls'. None felt it to 
be a hardship; on the contrary, those who were too young to be left 
in charge looked forward with great anxiety to the time when they 
should be allowed to "take their turn" with the older and more 
favored ones. 

When these boys left home for school or college, a box, with 
scissors, needles, thread and buttons, Avas always placed in each 
trunk ; and the lost buttons were replaced, and the ever-recurring 
rents repaired by thpir own hands; and with the stitches went 
many thanks daily to the wise mother who had taught them to take 
care of themselves as well as be helpftil to others. 

Now, my dear young housekeeper and anxious mother, do you 



378 ^ TALK ABOUT BEDS. 

not think your little sons would be less restless and fretful, and far 
more happy, if you allowed them to ^^ make b'lieve" that they were 
a most important help to you, until, by a little patience and in- 
dulgence, you succeeded in making the imaginary help a reality, 
repaying you in later years for all the slight inconvenience and 
annoyance you experienced in teaching them, and insuring comfort 
and independence to your sons under whatever circumstances 
they may be placed. 



A TALK ABOUT BEDS. 



I wish there was no such thing as beds. I don't believe the com- 
fort of them is equal to the trouble and annoyance of having them 
well made and cared for. I am ashamed to ask any one into my 
chambers, for my beds are a perpetual vexation to me. They look 
as if tossed up by a whirlwind ; the mattress laid on unevenly, every 
inequality as visible as if the occupants had just risen. The sheets 
and blankets never find their proper place, and the pillows are as 
hard and knotty as if made of cotton batting. I try to teach my 
girl how to do the work properly, but unfortunately am too igno- 
rant myself to speak with authority, and I have no dou])t she is 
aware of my deficiencies, so my words are idle breath to her. 

"If you don't know how to tell a girl, go to the rooms with her, 
and shoio her how you wish the work done. That will be the 
easiest mode for you, and more likely to be remembered by the 
pupil." 

Alas! I don't know how to make a bed neatly myself. I never 
attempted it in my life until I was married. Ah ! if I ever have 
daughters they shall be taught how to care for their own rooms, 
and make their own beds neatly, however rich we become or how 
many servants we may employ. 

" That is wise and right. Though riches may relieve one of 
much hard labor, they should not enervate or incapacitate for 
such an amount of exercise as is necessary to secure a vigorous 



A TALK ABOUT BEDS. 379 

muscular development, and also enable one, in an emergency, to 
step in and perform with ease and independence whatever there is 
to be done. Riches can not insure us against a ' hitch ' in the do- 
mestic machinery now and then, and every girl should be so 
taught, that in her father's house, or in her own, she can bring 
' order out of confusion ' by an independent use of her own hands.'' 

It is important that once a week every thing should be removed 
from the bedstead in order that all the dust and lint, which will 
lodge about them, may be removed, and occasionally they need a 
faithful washing, that the dust and lint which will settle in the 
slats, about the joints, springs or moldings, may be removed. 

The mattress should be thrown up every morning for a good 
airing, and when this is done turn it over, under-side up, and then 
proceed to make the bed. 

Making beds is a very simple thing. Every housekeeper may 
have some rules diHering from her neighbor in this as well as in 
every department of labor ; but there are some that are common 
to all. 

The mattress being placed evenly on the springs or ^ja^/msse, beat 
it hard to remove hanpy places, and next spread over the under- 
sheet, right side vp, with the wide hem to the top, and, raising up 
the mattress with the left hand, fold the sheet smoothly under at 
the top and bottom ; then fold under at each side, bringing the 
sheet very tight and smooth across the mattress. (By having a 
wide hem at the top and a narrow one at the bottom, there is no 
chance that by any one's carelessness you may one night sleep with 
that part of the sheet to your face which the night before covered 
your feet.) Now, spread over the upper sheet, Hght side do^vn; then, 
as you put the finishing touches to the bed, in turning the upper 
sheet over on to the spread at the top, the right side of the hem 
will be outside. In spreading on the upper sheet, bring it well up 
to the head of the bed, that you may have a handsome, generous 
width to turn down; lay it very smooth and straight, then put on 
the blankets, folding both upper sheet and blankets nicely under at 
the foot; but bring them only so far up at the head as will cover 
the shoulders and not turn down doubled across them. 

The bed-spread comes ne.xt. It should be put on very evenly, 



380 A TALK ABOUT BEDS. 

the middle fold of the spread coming just in the middle of the bed, 
drawing it up toward the head about as high as the upper sheet, 
a full foot above the blankets. Now lift the top of the blankets 
with one hand, and fold the spread smoothly under them on one 
side of the bed, then pass to the other side and proceed in like 
manner. By this mode, the spread will prevent you from being 
annoyed with the rough blankets should the sheet get misplaced 
during the night. This done, turn the upper sheet down over all, 
drawing it as smoothly as possible, and tuck all down at the sides, 
between the sides of the bedstead and tlie mattress. When tuck- 
ing under the last side, draw spread, blankets and upper sheet as 
taut and straight as possible, giving the sides of the bed as even 
and true a line as possible. Now, put on the sheet tidy if you use 
them; and they are desirable, even if made of cotton, and perfectly 
plain, as after one night's use the upper sheet becomes wrinkled 
and tumbled, and the bed can not be made to look as neat as one 
could wish. Then lay on the bolster, well beaten up, in its clean, 
white case, placing the pillows, which have also been faithfully 
beaten, above all, and dress them with tidies to match the sheet- 
tidy. 

Some prefer to have the bolster put on beneath the under sheet ; 
in which case the sheet is drawn so high up as to allow plenty of 
room to fold under the lower side of the bolster before turning 
under the head of the mattress. 

A bed thus made will be smooth and level on the top without a 
Wrinkle, and as square and straight at the side as if boxed in 
wood. 

This is all so very simple — after one becomes accustomed to it — 
that the old ladies, who have all the mysteries of housekeeping as 
familiar and entirely at their command as the alphabet, will shake 
their heads and vote this a very stupid waste of time and space ; 
but they have forgotten how acceptable minute directions were in 
their young days. So we will encourage ourselves by hoping that 
some tired young housekeeper, who has groaned over ill-made 
beds, may find some crumbs of comfort here which will remove a 
part, at least, of her many annoyances. 



MARKETING. 381 



MARKETING. 

It is very important that every lady should understand how to 
select and purchase such stores as may be needed in her family. 
This knowledge must be acquired in girlhood. Mothers should 
allow their daughters to accompany them occasionally in their 
market expeditions, quietly explaining, as they pass from one stall 
to another examining the various articles needed, their reasons for 
rejecting or purchasing. We are all inclined to "put off," from 
day to day, this part of our domestic instructions, which our 
daughters greatly need; "we are too busy," "in a great hurry ,'^ 
and "can't be hindered" by answering the thousand "whys" and 
"wherefores" with which young children follow us. It is, to be 
sure, something of an annoyance, but very trifling compared with 
the pleasure our daughters will take in going with us through our 
daily rounds, if we begin this training while they are small. Let 
them occasionally make a few purchases themselves ; give them 
their choice from among certain unimportant articles, and then ex- 
plain the rule by which they will know how to select the best or 
reject the imperfect. Such lessons must begin early, or, ere we 
are aware, our little girl has discarded her dolls and stands by our 
side, a lovely woman ; and before we realize this bewildering change 
the voice of the charmer has awaked another love in her heart, for 
which she leaves father and mother for a new home and new cares. 
Happy for us if we have so taught her that this new yoke shall be 
easy, and these new burdens light. 

In marketing, we would not advise roaming from one store or 
market to another, after one has become sufficiently acquainted in 
a city or village to have a correct idea of the quality of the pro- 
duce and the character of the vender. Until this knowledge is 
well acquired, one must, for one's own security, make trial of many; 
but when well assured that you have gained a fair estimate of both 
quality and character, it is, we think, better to make most of the 
purchases at one place. The grocer, butcher, fish and poultry 
dealer will take greater interest in serving a regular customer to 



382 MARKETING. 

the best, at reasonable rates, than one who may not buy of him 
again for weeks, and it certainly is a greater saving of time and 
trouble than to purchase of many. If they can not supply your 
present needs, it is for their interest to send out and procure what 
you want; and we think they generally do this with pleasure, and 
with a hearty wish to give you the best. 

In buying beef, remember that ox-beef is the best. The animal 
should be five or six years old before it is killed, if you would have 
the best beef. If well fed, it will be fine grained; the lean should 
be of a bright-red color, and well mingled with fat. If there is 
not a good quantity of fat running through it, the beef Avill be 
tough, and not well-flavored. The fat should be a rich, clear white, 
just tinged with yellow, and firm, and the suet also. Heifer or 
cow-beef is paler than ox-beef, firmer grained, the fat a clear white, 
and the bones smaller, but it is not as rich or juicy. When the 
animal is tOo old or badly fed, it is of a dark red, the fat skinny 
and tough, and in very old beef a horny substance will be found 
running through the ribs. When it is pressed, if the meat rises 
quickly from the finger it is good; but if the finger-dent rises 
slowly, or not at all; do not buy it; it is poor meat. The sirloin 
and the middle ribs are the best for roasting. If you buy a sirloin, 
have it cut from the "chump end," which has a good undercut or 
fillet. The rump is often preferred by epicures, but, being too large 
to roast whole, a roast is usually cut from what is called the 
'' chump end," Porter-house steak is the best for broiling, but not 
the most economical. One rib is too small for baking; it dries in cook- 
ing, and is not good economy unless you take out the bone, roll 
the meat and stufi" it, when it makes a nice dish for a small family. 

Veal should be small and white, the kidney well covered with 
fat. If the calf is over ten weeks old, the meat will be coarse. The 
flesh should be dry and white. If coarse-grained, moist and 
clammy, have nothing to do with it. The fillet, loin and shoulder 
are the best for roasting. The breast, well cut and jointed, makes 
a fine stew or pot-pie, and is better economy than when baked or 
roasted. Veal is excellent to make " stock" for soups; the knuckle 
or the poorer parts of the neck are just as good for soup as to use 
the more expensive parts. 



MARKETING. 383 

Mutton should be dark-colored, and have plenty of fat. The 
color uetermines the age, and age is considered a mark of excellence 
in mutton. It should be five or six years old to satisfy a lover of 
mutton. All the joints may be roasted; but the saddle, and next 
to that the haunch — the leg and loin undivided — are the best. Chops 
are cut from the loin, cutlets from the leg, the best end of the neck 
or thick end of the loin. The leg and neck are often boiled. 

Lamb should be small, pale-red and fat. Best roasted. The leg, 
"when the lamb attains a good size, is excellent boiled. 

Porh should never be bought except from a butcher whose hon- 
esty you are sure of, and who knows where the pork was fattened. 
It is not a very healthful meat at the best, and none should be 
used unless corn-fed. There is much bad or diseased pork sold, 
and it is very dangerous food. If the flesh feels flabby or clammy 
to the touch, it is not good, and should not, on any account, be used. 
If there are, kernels in the fat, let it alone. The fat should be 
hard, the lean white and fine in the grain, and the rind thin and 
smooth. 

As soon as your meat of any kind is brought home from the 
butchers', wipe it with a clean dry cloth. If in summer you find 
any "fly-blows," which is very common, cut them out at once, and 
no harm will be done. In the loins a long pipe runs by the bone, 
that should be taken out immediately, or in a few hours it will 
taint and spoil the whole joint. If the meat is not to be used at 
once, dredge it with pepper. Powdered charcoal dusted over meat 
will help to keep it sweet, or will remove any taint already begun. 
It is wise to keep charcoal on hand during warm weather; it is 
wonderfully efficacious in preserving meat, and, if dusted over it 
while hanging, it can all be washed off* when you are ready to cook 
it. Most meat is more tender and easily digested if kept hanging 
some time, and charcoal is a great and reliable aid in preserving 
it. Lamb and veal can not be kept as safely as beef aiid mutton. 

In choosing turkies and fowls, bear in mind that the male bird, 
if young, will have a smooth leg and a short spur, eyes biight and 
full, feet supple. The hen may be judged by the same signs; and 
if these are not found, be sure the birds are stale and old. 

Ducks, geese and pigeons should have pliable feet; if stiff, they 



384 MARKETING. 

are old. In all, the vent should be firm ; if discolored or flabby, 
they are stale. This last sign should be remembered in judging 
of all poultry or game. 

The eyes of fish should be bright, the gills clear red, body stiff*, 
and smell not unpleasant, or rather, not stale ; for we imagine that 
fish can never be of a pleasant smell, however palatable it may be 
to the taste. 

As far as possible, buy all stores by the quantity ; if nothing else, 
you save the weight of paper — no small item in the course of a 
year; but there is always some reduction when an article is pur- 
chased at wholesale. You save the retail commission, if nothing 
more. 

In warm weather, meats, of course, can not be bought in large 
quantities, unless for a large family who are in possession of a good 
ice-house. Rice, tapioca, raisins, etc., are an exception to this rule. 
They should never be bought in large quantities except for board- 
ing-houses or hotels, as they are very easily filled with insects. 

A store-room should be very dxy, and supplied with a good 
number of shelves and drawers for stores of all kinds. A thick 
slab should be placed across from one end to the other, so high 
that nothing suspended from it will hit the head in passing through 
it. In this should be some strong hooks to hang hams, dried beef, 
tongues, baskets, etc. A neat step-ladder should be kept in. one 
corner, by which you can easily reach whatever is needed. These 
hooks are a great convenience, not only to put away your market- 
ing, but so many things keep better for being suspended where 
there can be free circulation of air ; and a store-room must be well 
ventilated. Eggs keep well hung up in a basket, or in nets made 
for that purpose. Buy your lemons in June and July, when 
freshest, cheapest and most plentiful, by the box, and suspend them 
on these hooks in nets, and they will keep all summer. 



EEPAIBS. 385 



REPAIRS. 

*' The mother, wi' her needle an' her shears, 
Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new." 

A friend writes : " I have been much interested in the Grand 
Patching and Darning Exhibition ; but my husband is rather skep- 
tical as to any great good resulting from it. He seems to think it 
a waste of time to do this work with sucli particularity, and doubts 
if, in these days of plenty, women will find it necessary to patch, 
piece and darn so elaborately. I reply, that probably a large 
portion of those who have seen or read of this work, may never 
be called uj^qn to do it; yet we know that there are many, very 
many, who are, and will be, compelled to economize material, though 
at the loss of time; and therefore I think this exhibition will prov& 
a good thing, if it should lead to a more thorough knowledge of 
the way to do this work well. How much more respectable and! 
comfortable the poorer classes could be made, if the wife andi 
mother understood how to piece, patch and darn neatly, and sO' 
contrive that the smallest scrap could be used to good advantage, 
and present an attractive appearance. I wish you would give us a 
chapter on this subject." 

So much has been said, and well said, since this exhibition was 
first planned, that a word from us may seem quite superfluous. A 
motherly care, however, tempts us to venture — though we do not 
intend to weary our readers with many words. Every point has 
already been ably discussed, and we can furnish nothing new. 

Possibly, many of those who have read about this "darning and 
patching" have turned away, saying: "Thank Fortune! I shall 
never need to emjiloy myself about such work. I should feel that 
I was spending my time foolishly." Would the time spent in per- 
fecting yourself in this accomplishment be more wasted, think you, 
than that which you give daily to crocheting and embroidering a 
host of things unlike aught in heaven above, the earth beneath, or 
the waters under the earth? And yet the time spent in fancy 
"work has taught you little that you could turn to practical use 



386 BEPAIES. 

should reverses befall you — and who is secured against reverses? 
Fortune is fickle, and policies taken out in her insurance companies 
are not reliable. 

We would not speak slightingly of many kinds of really elegant 
fancy articles and ornaments which women's skill has wrought. If 
you have the time to spare, then — "these ought ye to have done, 
but not to leave the other undone." Should disaster come, and any 
of us be compelled to "rise up early, and sit up late, and eat the 
bread of carefulness" — to plan and turn and contrive, using all the 
skill we possess to "gar auld claes look amaist as weel's the 
new " — how thankful we should be that, in our younger and more 
prosperous days, we had been taught this art, and by it were now 
able to carry with us into our altered circumstances a power to bring 
light out of darkness. If one knows how to renovate and remodel, 
there is far more genuine pleasure in using the knowledge to con- 
struct new out of old, than can possibly be gained while shopping 
on the most extravagant scale. To walk into a store Avith a full 
purse, and buy, without stint, whatever the eye covets ; to send the 
material to the dress-maker, and have it made and brought home 
without an effort on our part, is a tame enjoyment compared with 
contriving the dress from a scanty pattern, or from odd bits and 
ends. We weary of that which costs us no toil or thought; the 
charm soon vanishes, and we seek for something new. 

Now,, suppose you examine a dress that has done good service. 
It is somewhat spotted, and a good deal soiled ; but you say: "It 
is so pretty and becoming, I shall feel like losing an old friend if I 
throw it aside. What can I do to renew its beauty ? " If the ma- 
terial is silk or woolen, even of the most delicate colors, you can 
very easily clean it without fading. After ripping it with care, pre- 
pare equal parts of alcohol, soft soap and molasses. Half a pint 
of each will clean a silk dress, unless you have wasted twenty-five 
or thirty yards on one dress. In that case you will need a larger 
quantity of the preparation. Have near you two small tubs or 
pails of water — one warm, the other cool — unless the material is 
woolen, when you should use hot water for both. Spread one piece- 
of the dress at a time on to an ironing-sheet; dip a clean sponge into 
this very dirty -looking but very effective wash ; rub each spot sep- 



REPAIRS. 387 

arately till you have cleansed it; then, keeping the sponge wet, go 
over the whold piece, wetting it thoroughly, and carefully removing 
the dirt and spots. When satisfied that you have done your best, 
rinse the piece faithfully in the first water; do not wring it, but 
hold it up and let it drain a moment; then shake and snap vigor- 
ously to remove as much w^ater as you can. Put it through the 
second water in the same manner; sna}) as dry as you can, at least 
so that it will not drip; spread smoothly on the ironing-sheet, and 
iron quickly. Be caieful to iron by a thread, and iron till perfectly 
dry. Have your irons as hot as you can use without scorching. 
If the material is the same on both sides, iron on that which was 
first used as the outside of the dress, but make it up inside out. 

This preparation is such a vile, dirty-looking compound, one would 
suppose it would ruin any thing touched by it. Not so, at all. We 
have cleaned the most delicate silks and ribbons — blues, violets, 
pinks and greens — and have never failed to secure a very good 
renovation of the materials, without changing or weakening the 
color, or leaving the harsh, stiflf crackle on the silk which washing 
usually gives. 

Having cleansed the dress, now suppose you see how much inge- 
nuity you can display in remodeling it. Change the gathers or 
pleats, that the most wear may fall on stronger spots; alter the posi- 
tion of trimming to hide some weak place, or improvise something 
to suit the exigencies of the case. If cracked or much •worn at top 
and bottom, cut oflT all that must go ; then cut the upper part of the 
skirt off from the bottom, about as high up as you wish your trim- 
ming to go, and set in a piece of lining or paper muslin, to supply 
the length of Avhat you have cut away from the broken parts of the 
skirt. Over this " sham " lay the fold, puff, ruffle or flounce you have 
prepared for trimming. It is good economy, we think, to buy a large 
pattern when you get a new dress, that there may be some left for re- 
pairs, at least for new sleeves and waist; but if you have none, piece — 
piece, very neatly, of course, and with ribbon, silk or velvet, of a 
color to contrast or harmonize with the dress, form your trimmings. 

By skill, a garment may be so entirely metamorphosed 
that your " dearest and best" will compliment you on your new 
dress. The only good thing about the present style of overskirtu. 



388 BUT A MOMENT'S WORK. 

flounces, panniers, bows and every conceivable and inconceivable 
shape of trimming, is that it is a wonderful help in making o.d 
things new. 

Some time since we noticed that a young friend, who is gener- 
ally remarkably neat and simple in her taste, was rather more elab- 
orately dressed than usual. We honestly complimented her on the 
pretty silk, the fine fit, and very becoming color. 

" But I see," said she, " you refrain from a word of commendation 
for ray trimmings. They don't suit your taste, I know, my friend ; 
and pray don't think they are in exact accordance with my own. 
Let me tell you a secret. Every bow, band, strap, fold and frill 
hides a piece set in, or a hole mended." 

In the midst of a large company, there was not a lady that ap- 
peared more genteelly or better dressed than our friend. If there 
were more like this modestly independent and industrious girl, we 
should hear very little of the talk, so common nowadays, that 
young men are unable to marry, because the young ladies are so ex- 
travagant. It would be said, on the contrary, that it was because 
the young ladies would not have them. 



BUT A MOMENT'S WORK. 

"Ah! I see you have spied my bonnet and shawl thrown on the 
sofa, and think me sadly careless and untidy; but really I was 
so tired I couldn't put them away when I first came in, and then 
I forgot all about them." 

But you were not too tired to go to your room, have a good 
wash, brush your hair after your walk, and make yourself quite 
neat, I perceive. Would it have added greatly to your fatigue, 
think you, to have taken the bonnet and shawl with you, and put 
them at once in their proper place? If you begin your new life by 
putting every thing where it belongs, you can hardly im£tgine how 
much time you will save, how much real comfort you will secure, 
or how many temptations to irritability you Avill avoid. Nothing 



BUT A MOMENTS WORK. 389 

tries the patience more than to find yourself compelled to search 
all over the house for a missing but indispensable article, particu- 
larly when a certain monitor in your o'svn bosom whispers that, 
when last in use, you tossed aside that which now you so much 
need, because too tired to put it in the one only proper place. 
One moment's care then, would have saved all this wasted time now, 
and secured your own self-respect. A little painstaking, a little 
practice at the beginning, will soon prepare you to be exact in the 
smallest things, with scarcely a thought — almost by instinct. And 
really these little things occupy but a few moments. Yet the neg- 
lect of them lessens, and the careful performance of them adds, 
amazingly to the sum total of your pleasure and comfort. Let 
us look for a moment at some of these aj^parently insignificant 
items. 

When you come in from a walk or ride, go at once to your room 
before removing your outdoor attire. Take ofi" the gloves first ; 
pull out tlie thumb and fingers smooth, like a new pair; fold 
together and lay in the drawer. They will wear twice as long, and 
always look new. Then remove the bonnet ; brush it with a velvet 
brush, or, if of lace, with a teatber-brush, kept for the purpose. 
Straighten the strings, and fold smoothly across the crown of the 
bonnet, or roll up and pin together, and lay the bonnet in the box. 
Then take off the outside garment. If a cloak, brush it thoroughly; 
see that no button, button -hole or trimming is breaking, and hang 
it up, or fold and lay in the drawer. If a shawl, shake off the 
■dust and fold neatly, but not always in the same creases, as they 
are apt to wear rusty or break if not often changed. 

All this, taking so many words to tell, will occupy but a few 
moments to perform, and then you are ready to brush your hair, 
and wash your hands and face, before going to your sitting-room. 
But if callers are waiting for you when you come home, in no case 
wait to lay off your garments, but go in at once and receive them, 
with your walking or riding attire still on. In the first place, it is 
not kind to keep friends waiting ; and, secondly, you will be 
tempted, if you remove your things first, to toss them off hurriedly, 
and most likely forget them for the remainder of the day. 

At night, on retiring, if you leave your garments just ae they 



390 BUT A MOMENTS WORK. 

fall from you, an unsightly pile on the floor or chairs, will you be 
more inclined, or have more leisure, when you rise in the morning 
to put them away than at night ? Would it not be wiser to shake 
off the dust and hang the clothes up in a closet, leaving the door 
open till morning, that all perspiration may be dried and the gar- 
ment well aired ? Many garments are molded and ruined by being 
packed away in a close closet or drawer before they are fully dried, 
as well as by being thrown into a heap, and injured by the wrinkles 
thus made. In the morning, throw your night-clothes across a 
chair by an open window, till well aired, and then hang them up 
in a well ventilated closet. This is much neater, as well as more 
healthful, than to roll them up or fold ever so neatly and put 
under the pillows, as many do. They never can be fresh and 
pleasant when you put them on again at night, if folded and put 
away from the air. 

"Oh ! how tiresome to be compelled to think of every little item. 
It Avould kill me in a week. But some are ' to the manner born/ 
and all this careful thought comes as easy as breathing." 

You mistake. Let me tell you a short story. 

Many years ago, two little girls lived in a large, old-fashioned 
house, but none too large for the ten wild, frolicsome children who 
occupied it. Care for the house and children required many steps 
and much hard work. The good mother conscientiously believed it 
her duty to teach her children to help take care of themselves, and 
to help others also, and- to do whatever they undertook faithfully. 

This was not an easy lesson for those young girls to master, nor 
indeed for any of this large flock ; but the youngest, giddy and 
thoughtless, found the order, regularity and scrupulous neatness 
that was exacted, a great trial, and sinning and repenting were the 
usual routine of each day — the sinning so frequent, and the re- 
pentance so evanescent, that any one but a mother would have 
despaired. 

Returning from school, on the youngest's tenth birthday, both 
girls were called to their cheerful, sunny chamber, and on each 
side of the east window stood two pretty new bureaus. Their 
mother showed them how neatly she had placed every thing belong- 
ing to them. "And now," said she, "remember that once a. 



J USE CARES. 391 

week I s^hall examine your bureaus. I shall not let you know 
when. Most likely it will be in the night, generally when my 
work is all done ; and if I find any thing, however trifling, out of 
place, I shall be compelled to wake you, and make you get up and 
put all in order. Please try and remember this, my dears ; for it 
would not be pleasant to leave your warm beds some cold, winter 
uight, to do that which you should have done before you slept. 
Or, perhaps, some day, just as you were ready to go on a pleasant 
excursion, how sad it would be to make you stay at home, because 
you carelessly neglected mother's requests. It will grieve me if 
compelled to do this ; but I know of no other w:iy to break up your 
exceedingly careless habits." 

And what was the result of this experiment? If the rule, so 
needlessly strict, was transgressed, it must have been a veiy cruel 
mother who could have executed the threatened punishment. 

On the contrary, it was one of the. truest mothers the sun ever 
shone upon; but the children well undei-stood that her word, once 
passed, was unchangeable. One or two little pleasure expeditions 
lost, and rising a few times, in a New England's winter night, soon 
rectified the naturally careless habits; and the cure, though for the 
time not joyous, was thought, in al\er life, a small price to jniy for 
estiiblishiiig a habit of order, which soon became a second nature, 
and no burden. Indeed, it was a lesson for which they had cause 
to bless the good mother hourly. 



JTXE CARES. 



There is much of romance and beauty in the month of June, 
partly imaginary and partly real. During the frosts and snows 
of winter, the sharp winds and dreary storms of spring, our 
thoughts turn with most affectionate longings toward June — the 
mouth of loves and roses. Yet, when she comes, hardly any other 
month of the whole year brings so many little frets and annoyances 
as the mouth of June. 



392 JUNE CARES. 

The first two or three days, so warm and balmy, lull us Into a 
dreamy state of delightful rest and security ; but we wake to find 
damp, foggy mornings, with mists so dark and dense that you 
long to cut a window through for the sunshine, which you feel 
must be held in durance vile behind it. Particularly is this 
noticeable if living near a river. All through the first half of the 
month we have cold, stormy days ; suddenly, damp, sultry, sticky 
ones. In the morning we are uncertain how to dress. If warm, 
and we put on cool, thin garments, perhaps in an hour or two a 
chilly wind sweeps by, and, shivering and quite uncomfortable, we 
resort to breakfast shawls or sacks — they are a little too much, and 
we drop them, only too glad, in a few moments, to draw them 
close about us again ; or, in an obstinate fit we refuse to yield to 
the demands made by these sudden changes for warmer clothing, 
and a heavy cold is the result. The wind has a decided partiality 
for the east most of the time in early June. If it veers for 
a few hours to the south, it is in an unsteady, wavering manner, 
aud soon turns back to the east again. The result is, that the first 
half of June will very likely keep you in an uncomfortable, dis- 
satisfied state of mind. Every thing molds; clothes grow damp 
in drawers or wardrobes, or the washing is caught out in a shower 
just as it is half ready to be taken in. It is decidedly "falling 
weather." Be watchful to guard against any infelicities that may 
follow these changes, patiently accepting what they bring, that 
can not be avoided. That's the only true way. This variable 
weather usually lasts till the middle of June, sometimes later, 
when we may look for more settled but very warm weather. 

The flies have been reconnoitering — sending out scouts, duriilg 
these few weeks of mild weather — but as the warm days become 
more permanent they come on with their main array. We have 
put the moths to rest; but these intruders, if not as mischievous, 
are equally as hard to manage and quite as persistent. There are 
various kinds of "fly-paper," ^I'ound which, when in use, certainly 
lie large numbers of the slain to certify to tlie virtues of the paper. 
It is doubtless of some benefit, but does not by any means free us 
from this great vexation. The famous "old woman," who always 
says all the smart things, advises not to pull out a gray hair, as 



JUNE CARES. 893 

«he assures you that a dozen will come to the funeral, and also 
makes the same assertion about killing flies. We don't" quite 
accept this as fact, yet we intend to discard fly-paper this year and 
see how the experiment succeeds. It is a dirty, niussy remedy, 
requiring one to be incessantly on the watch lest flies who have 
tiisted the paper fall into food, or lie about in an unseemly manner. 
If servants in the kitchen or dining-room have any gifts toward 
neatness, this constant "litter" makes them cross; if they have not 
that gift, the careless way they allow the dead flies to lie about, 
and the fear that they may approach too near the cooking, may 
make the mistress cross also — two evils to be scrupulously avoided. 
During the heat of summer we are compelled to keep open 
^oors and windows, but these lawless intruders know, apparently, 
the moment when we lift the latch or raise the window, and swarm 
in upon us in myriads. To secure the air and baffle the flies we 
have found mosquito-netting a great help. A simple frame of 
pine, about an inch and a half wide, fitted closely inside the lower 
sash, with mosquito lace or net nailed neatly across it (galvanized 
nails or tacks should be used to avoid rust), is the most effectual 
:safeguard we have ever tried. The frame must not be quite as 
high as the lower sash, as room is needed to push in the spring to 
open or close the window. The outside doors and those leading 
from the kitchen to the dining-room may have frames fitted in the 
same manner — the frame having a cross-piece in the middle. It 
■can be hung on hinges, having a hook in the cross-piece to fasten 
it with, while the real door may be kept open all day, excluding 
the flies, but leaving it free for the air to circulate. By a few 
days' extra care the family will soon learn to close this net-door, or 
swarms of flies will quickly remind them of any heedlessness in 
this matter. A wire net is the most durable, although more ex- 
pensive at first; but it will soon repay the extra expense, for lace 
•or netting must be removed every year. If wire is used, it should 
be painted white, else the room will be unpleasantly darkened by 
it. But, notwithstanding these precautions, the flies will often eflfect 
an entrance, especially into the dining-room when dishing the 
■dinner, or when merry, heedless children rush in and out, always 
forgetting to close the door. Cut old newspapers in strips, an inch 



394 MILK AND BUTTER. 

or an inch and a half wide, nearly the whole length of the sheet, 
leaving only about two inches uncut at the top. Take a smooth 
round stick about two feet long, and, laying thiee or four of these 
cut papers together, wind the uncut part about the stick. Tie the 
paper on with a strong twine very tightly, so that it will not slip, 
leaving the long ribbons of paper hanging loose, and you have a 
most effectual fly-brush. Keep one always on hand for the 
kitchen and two for the parlor and dining-room. If the flies have 
secured an entrance during the dishing of dinner, when it is 
served spread a large piece of netting over"" the table to protect 
the food from dust — or the flies you may brush down. Open the 
door, let two persons take each a fly-brush, and, standing opposite 
the door, swing the brush in concert through the room swiftly 
toward the door, and it will be amusing and gratifying to observe 
how hastily the intruders will vacate the premises. One or two 
well-directed charges Avill leave you free to shut the net-door and 
partake of your dinner unmolested. 



MILK AND BUTTER. 



July and August are trying months for those who have charge of 
milk and butter, unless tlie work to be done is performed in large 
establishments devoted entirely to it. When a milk-house is built 
under large trees, to shield it from the fierce heat of the midday 
sun, with a stream of pure cold water running through it, the 
labor is diminished full one-half. Indeed, we should not call it 
labor, but an exhilariiting amusement to take charge of such an one 
as we saw in Norwich, Chenango County, N. Y. We have not 
thought of it since without a longing, amounting almost to covet- 
ing our neighbor's work. To find this house among the trees, away 
from the confusion and tui-moil of the town, which is shaken by the 
ceaseless din of mere noisy occupations, was most restful and tran- 
quillizing — the music of the rich green leaves, among the long, 
sweeping branches, and the gentle murmun of the restless brook 



MILK AND BUTTER. 395 

could uot fail to give a spring and elasticity to the spirits that 
must in a great measure overcome the sense of fatigue. This was 
our first impression as we stood outside the unpretentious building, 
and it was in no wise changed when we stepped upon the smooth 
floor, as white as good soaj), fresh water and a willing arm could 
make it. 

Our attention was immediately attracted by the sound of ma- 
chinery. In the further corner of the room stood two large barrel- 
churns, the dashers of both moving up and down with an easy, 
uniform motion, impelled by the wheel and belt overhead, to which 
they were attached. No fears for the aching back and tired arms 
neutralized our enjoyment; for the woman in charge sat, resting by 
the open door, till the butter was ready to be taken out into the 
" butter- worker." 

A large trough, some twelve or fourteen feet long, six or eight 
wide, and perhaps four deep (we simply use our Yankee privilege 
of guessing at the dimensions), and lined with tin, was placed in the 
middle of the room, Avhen the curd for "skimmed cheese," made 
from milk after all the cream was removed, was "set." This and 
the churning arrangements occupied iialf the building. The other 
half was a large tank, through which the water from the brook 
flowed continually. Into this reservoir, always full, tall tin-cans, 
between two or three feet high, and perhaps a foot across, were 
set. Little danger that milk in that cool bed would sour before all 
the cream had been risen. About this tank ran a wide shelf or 
ledge, on which stood great tubs of golden butter, waiting to be sent 
to mnrket. 

In the second story, equally cool and clean, large shelves were 
placed, where the cheese is kept to dry or ripen, entirely separate 
from the butter. 

This is a very tame description of a mode of labor which was to 
us exceedingly interesting. We must now hasten to speak of that 
which is real care and labor — the management of small dairies, 
where butter is only made for home consumption. 

The most scrupulous cleanliness must be recognized as being ab- 
solutely indispensable. If all else is done to perfection, and that is 
wanting, you can not have good butter. As you skim one mess. 



396 MILK AND BUTTER 

be sure that the shelf on which it stood is faithfully scrubbed and 
left unoccupied until it becomes dry. Every utensil used about 
milk or cream should be kept for this, and drafted into no other 
service. Many object to using soap in washing milk-pans, pails, 
€tc. But we have great affection and reverence for soap, and can 
not imagine that its free use can harm any article employed about 
a dairy. We always insist that the pails, pans, skimmers, butter- 
prints and churn be washed in very hot suds; if a servant fears to 
risk her hands, we use our own. A small-pointed scrub-brush must 
be used to scour the seams, corners, handles, etc., of all the uten- 
sils, and particularly the strainers in the pails. After this scrubbing 
is well done, rinse in an abundance of hot water, and then pour 
over all a large kettle of boiling water. Let the articles stand in 
this a short time, then wipe with clean towels, and turn down on a 
stand or shelf, prepared for them, outdoors where the sun will 
sweeten them perfectly. Even in rainy days, better leave them out 
an hour or two that they may have the benefit of the air at least, 
if deprived of sun; then wipe them dry, and bring into the milk- 
room before night. 

A small unpainted tub should be kept expressly to wash milk 
things in. The brush, wash-cloths and drying-towels ought all to 
be marked, and never used for any other purpose. See that they 
are washed, scalded and bung to dry, outdoors if possible, every 
time they are used. 

If the milk-room or cellar is small and not ventilated, it is very 
difficult in July and August to keep milk sweet long enough for all 
the cream to rise. While the weather is very hot, unless one has 
a deep, cold cellar, or a spring of water running through it, it is 
well to scald the milk when first brought in. Have a kettle half 
full of boiling water over the fire, strain the milk into a clean pail, 
and set it into the boiling water until it gets scalding hot, but not 
boiling. Be sure and remove it before it rises in wrinkles on top. 
If too hot, the butter will have a disagreeable taste. The butter is 
never quite as good, but the cream rises more rapidly before the 
milk has time to change — a very important gain. 

In warm weather, with no more protection than is generally 
found in small dairies, it is not often possible to keep milk over 



MILK AND BUTTER.. 397 

twenty-four hours before skimming. Every minute the cream re- 
mains on the milk after it changes, is an injury to the butter. 
Thirty-six hours is the proper time for milk to stand when the 
weather is cool enough to keep it sweet. Some keep it forty-eight 
hours, on the plea that more butter is secured. We doubt if it is 
so; but whatever is gained in quantity by keeping milk so long un- 
skimmed is certainly lost in quality. Many think it important to 
keep the cream till rijpe or sour before churning. We think it a 
mistake — if good, sweet butter is the thing sought. In cool 
weather we churn when the cream is as sweet as that which is used 
for coffee. In July and August the cream imll sour, and the flavor 
of the butter shows the difference. As soon as the butter "comes" 
it must be well washed down from the sides of the churn and gath- 
ered into a mass. If very warm, wash a piece of ice and put into 
the churn, leaving the butter five or ten minutes to harden before 
putting it into the "butter-bowl," which, with the butter-ladle and 
churn, should have been kept full of cold water all night. When 
the butter is firm enough to work over, take it into the bowl and 
throw in a handful of salt ; we fancy it causes the buttermilk to run 
off more easily; work out all the buttermilk as gently as possible — 
too much working or rough handling injures the grain of the butter. 
This done, pour in ice-water, wash the butter through that, pour 
oflT, and add more till the water runs clear. Twice washing, in a 
generous quantity, should be sufficient. Then taste, and see how 
much more salt is needed. After the Avashing, pre>s the butter 
with the ladle till no water runs, toss it into a compact roll, cover 
with a clean linen cloth, and put into the ice-chest till next mcrn- 
ing, when it must be again broken up, worked over, and packed 
into a butter-pail or jar, pounded down compactly, and covered 
with strong brine in which pulverized saltpeter — a great spoonful 
to four quarts of brine — has been dissolved. Cover the jar or pail 
closely, and set in ice-chest or a cool place. 

This method will insure good butter the year round. It is the 
buttermilk left in most of our market butter that gives us so much 
poor butter. If that remains, no brine or care can make it sweet. 



398 WHEN DOCTORS DISAGREE. 



WHEN DOCTORS DISAGREE, LET COMMON 
SENSE DECIDE. 

Many of the directions for regulating household labor are so 
widely dissimilar that young housekeepers find it difficult to judge 
which to select as the most reliable. We are surprised, in examin- 
ing magazines and receipt-books, to note the numerous conflicting 
statements, coming, as many of them do, from those who stand as 
model managers and most reliable authorities. 

Not many weeks ago a young and inexperienced, but conscien- 
tious, housekeeper came to us in the lowest depths of despondency. 
One of her " guides " described the mode of doing certain impor- 
tant things, as she thought, very sensibly and clearly. Another 
gave rules wide apart from the first. For instance, one in wash- 
ing white flannel gives advice similar to that already given, and 
after washing shake up and down with a clothes-stick till cool 
enough to put through the wringer twice, snap, pull in shape, and 
hang on the line evenly, changing it on the line several times ; then 
fold tightly before very dry for an hour, and press while damp, 
drawing it into shape while pressing. All very correct, we should 
say, except putting through a wringer. That injures flannel, in 
our judgment, making it hard and knotty. 

But the next authority she consulted was very explicit in direct- 
ing that flannels must be soaked over night in cold water, then 
wrung into a cool suds, rinsed in cold water, and, if fair, left out over 
night to bleach. 

This advice we, for one, should most certainly object to, and 
feel that our flannels Avere yellowed, shrunk, and in every way 
greatly injured; and yet these directions were given by one who is 
recognized as good authority. 

The young lady had the misfortune to spill some grease on a 
carpet. She flies to her books of instructions to learn how to rem- 
edy thp disaster ; and one tells her to lift the carpet, stretch it on a 
clean floor, pour on boiling w'ater plentifully, and with a stiff" brush 
scrub the carpet very thoroughly ; pour on more boiling water and 



WHEN DOCTORS DISAGREE. 399 

scrub again ; then rinse, and, wiping the floor dry, stretch the 
carpet on the line to drain ; then nail it down while wet to prevent 
slirinking; raise all the windows, if a sunshiny day, and, tying a 
coarse dry towel on a broom, go over the carpet many times to ab- 
sorb as much of the water as can be done, changing the wet towel 
to a dry one often ; then leave the carpet to dry. 

Another advises soap-suds with ammonia, only raising the carpet, 
and to lay some old cloth underneath to absorb the grease. Then 
scrub the grease-spot with this suds, and, if needi'ul to hold the 
colors, put in half a cup of beef's gall. As soon as the grease dis- 
appears, rinse, and with old soft cloths rub till nearly dry. 

Another assures you that any quantity of oil or grease can be 
extracted from a carpet by laying dry buckwheat-flour on the spot 
plentifully, and removing it to add fresh, clean buckwheat-flour as 
often as necessary. When the grease disappears, brush all the flour 
off into a dust-pan, and the carpet will be as good as new ; but 
never wet the carpet to take out grease-spots. 

The first direction we think ruinous to any carpet but some old 
rag-carpet, the second very good advice, but the third the best of 
all, and entirely safe. 

Now, mystified by many conflicting rules (and we have only given 
a small sample), what can an inexperienced housewife do? We 
know of no better advice than to let the good common sense, 
which in a true-hearted, sensible wife develops rapidly in times of 
responsibility, come to the front; not to discard rules that are laid 
down for a housekeeper's guide, but to weigh them calmly, and ac- 
cept or discard independently, as careful trial of each shall deter- 
mine. It is true that economy must be kept in mind while allow- 
ing young, untried common sense the privilege of experimenting; 
but with care little need be wasted. Some trials may not give 
satisfaction ; but if one experiments on a small scale in matters of 
food, there will seldom be a dish prepared that can -not be eaten 
with a degree of comfort. In cleaning, repairing, rejuvenating ar- 
ticles, try only a little spot at a time ; or make a spot — which is 
better — on some old rag that Avill be no loss if thrown away. That 
will give a good chance of trying several ways before deciding 



400 SUPERFICIAL NEATNESS. 

which will be the most effective on that which can not be thrown 
away. 

But why should there be so many conflicting statements ? We 
certainly know how it has originated in several instances. Many 
have written on household affairs who have never had practical knowl- 
edo-e. They see the workings only from the outside — the surface 
work. They do not know how much time or thought the mistress 
of this domain gives to the work, what mistakes are made, or what 
remedies applied to prevent the mistake being known. Sometimes^ 
mistakes in cook-books occur by accident. We recall a receipt in 
a cook-book, that used to be very popular, that will clearly show 
our meaning. The dish was arrowroot pudding, and part of the 
direction read as follows: "To one pint arrowroot add half a cup. 
of sweet milk; beat it smooth and free from lumps till like 
cream ! " Any cook, and most housekeepers, will understand the 
impossibility of following that direction and the utter absurdity of 
it. It would be impossible to even moisten a pint of arrowroot 
with only half a cup of milk. And many a young houselceeper 
has grieved over her lack of success when trying to follow this rule. 
We desire to comfort those young matrons whose mistakes arise 
often from no fault of their own, but from a lack of practical 
knowledge in those who attempt to teach ; and we also would show 
those who try to follow books as housekeeping guides, that they 
must bring to their aid their own judgment and common sense in 
testing the lessons taught by the most able treatises on Domestic 
Economy. 



SUPERFICIAL NEATNESS. 

No doubt many think there has been quite enough said and written 
on the importance of thorough and systematic cleanliness in every 
department of household care and economy. We by no means 
desire to advocate the distressing neatness which must make those 
who practice it drudges and slaves, as well as make the home 
where it is practiced a place more than all others to be dreaded 



SUPERFICIAL NEATNESS. 401 

and avoided. Besides, \ve have little confidence in that neatness 
which is practiced with a flourish of trumpets. We have had occa- 
sion to know that n display— an effort to call the attention of every 
one to wonderful labors and surpassing neatness resulting there- 
from—is very likely to be found, after all, not more than an outside 
show. The work that is too loudly blazoned will seldom bare a rigid 
investigation. That which is done thoroughly but quietly is the 
work that has unassailable foundations, and is perfectly finished 
in every department. 

We most earnestly desire to show to the young particularly, 
how truly a perfect neatness, pervading every portion of a woman's 
work, instead of increasing labor eventually lightens it. 

Let this mode of working, or having work done, be so confirmed 
as to be a second nature, and the mistress of the family need 
have no fears. Guests who may come to her unexpectedly will 
not disturb her equanimity. She is well assured that the home 
machinery is in perfect working order, that there need be no uneasi- 
ness or excitement. She knows her table, however simply pro- 
vided, will be neat, and the food which is to be set before her hus- 
band will be the best she can afford. What is good enough for 
him who furnishes the means of providing is good enough for any 
guest, however honored. ' 

It is a lecognized law in the family that her house, from cellar 
to garret, must be kept in order always — not by fits and starts — 
and all parts of the work well done and at the propei* time. If 
this mode of keeping house has been the rule from the beginning, 
the lesson of systematic labor and thorough neatness, though at first 
hard to learn and practice, once mastered w'ill have borne rich 
fruits. Unexpected guests may, of necessity, increase the labor, 
but far less than in unmethodical, unregulated families. The mis- 
tress's face is unclouded. She meets her guests cordially and 
calmly. No servant rushes about wildly to see if rooms are aired 
and dusted and in proper order. The friends are shown to their 
apartments without one doubt on the part of their hostess but 
they will find a welcome in the neatness and cheerful appearance 
of the room as soon as the door is thrown open. No mysterious, anx- 
ious glances pass between mistress and maid, no hastily whispered 

26 



402 SUPERFICIAL NEATNESS. 

question or direction is seen which the guest can easily interpret 
in this wise: 

"Is every thing right in the chamber?" Or, "Kun quick and 
see if we have enough in the house for dinner." 

So, where the true kind of unfaiHng neatness reigns, there will 
be found peace and contentment. Once start the machinery on the 
right track, with all parts skillfully lubricated by the kindly, 
watchful care and supervision of the mistress, and one sees the 
work go on with an ease and celerity that can never be found when 
the labor is performed superficially, and with insufficient super- 
vision. 

We know there are so-called housekeepers who sit in their par- 
lors, and, calling a servant to their side, give their directions for 
marketing, and feel that their household labors for the day end 
there. They never spend a few moments in personal inspection. 
If the food comes on the table in any thing like a comfortable con- 
dition, they are content. But is that the sum total of duties that 
belong to the mistress of a family? Is she not the custodian of 
the means the husband places in her hands to secure the com- 
fort of their home, and with the expectation that it will be care- 
fully expended and nothing wasted? No matter how skillful the 
cook may be, is it not well that her mistress should quietly inform 
herself that there is no extravagance or waste? 

And after the meal has been partaken of, does care cease ? Who 
will skillfully gather up the fragments, that nothing be lost? Not 
one servant in a hundred — and that is a low estimate — will give 
this point any attention, if her mistress does not superintend or give 
the matter enough thought to see that her directions are obeyed. 
For how many weeks will the sweeping, and particularly the dust- 
ing, be thoroughly done, unless the girl knows full well that her 
employer " looketh well to the ways of her household," and will 
surely find out any short-comings that may be indulged in ? How 
much time or labor will a girl save herself by attempting to slight 
her work? For one day she may secure a few minutes, but retri- 
bution waits closely on unfaithfulness. She will find one day's 
neglect doubles, or manifestly increases her labor for the next. 

The thorough neatness which we advocate is not simply for the 



SUPERFICIAL NEATNESS. 403 

pleasing of the eyo or for present comfort. Health, as well as 
pride, calls for it. Carelessness, if unnoticed, goes on from one 
item of neglect to another ; and it is astonishing how short a time 
«lapses before even the most easy and inefficient housekeeper will 
begin to marvel what can have filled the whole house with impure 
air and disagreeable odors. Even then she may not dream that 
lack of careful watch on her part has tempted to untidiness on tlie 
part of her maids. A child is taken ill, grows worse, dangerous 
symptoms are developed, and, in spite of energetic treatment on 
the part of the physician and unceasing nursing by the mother — 
now roused to activity — it dies. Another falls in the loveliness of 
«arly childhood. The mother is next prostrated ; but her fears for 
the husband and children still left help her struggles back to life, 
the wreck of her former self It may be she hves to see other 
woes come upon her. 

The physicians call it diphtheria, and talk of carelessness on the 
part of the builders of the house, bad draining, imperfect sewerage; 
and no doubt in many instances they are correct. But were they 
at liberty to make close investigation, we think they would be 
amazed. It would not be considered quite proper for a family doc- 
tor, however trusted and familiar, to look behind the flour-barrel, to 
pull out the meat-barrels in the cellar, to examine the safe and open 
the refrigerator, to start back in blank astonishment at the odor 
that assails him. Let him look closely into those places, and, while 
he may bear witness against poor drains and deficient sewers, he 
certainly would feel that careless housekeeping and unfaithful serv- 
ants have had an equal share in bringing sorrow into the house 
and blighting the parents' hopes. There are very many most 
excellent housekeepers, but a multitude who are culpably careless. 



404 LITTLE THINGS— BUT USEFUL. 



LITTLE THINGS -BUT USEFUL. 

Some articles that are very palatable when cooked, fill the house 
with such offensive oilors while being prepared, that one inclines to 
dispense with their use rather than make the house so uncomfortable. 
But a little care will remedy this evil almost entirely. For instance, 
what can be more sickening than the smell of boiling cabbage or 
turnips? A lump of charcoal put into the boiling water with .th.e- 
cabbage will almost entirely remove the offense; and if a cook can 
be made to understand that the doors leading to the halls and din- 
ing-room from the kitchen viust be kept closed, and those leading 
outdoors, together with the windows, must be open, no one will be 
annoyed by the fumes from boiling cabbage. 

In boiling "greens," the atmosphere all over the house is often 
tainted with the offensive smell until it seems like a low-class board- 
ing-house. Take a lump of bread as large as a hen's egg, tie it up 
in a clean cloth and put into the kettle with the greens, and it will 
absorb all troublesome odor. 

Housekeepers are often greatly troubled and perplexed by mil- 
dew from damp closets and from rust. By putting an earthen bowl, 
or deep plate full of quicklime into the closet, the lime will ab- 
sorb the dampness and also sweeten and disinfect the place. Rats, 
mice and many bugs that are apt to congregate in damp places- 
have a dislike to lime. As often as the lime becomes slacked, 
throw it on the compost heap if in the country, or into the ash-bar- 
rel if in the city. 

Often articles of value in polished steel, particularly knives, are 
left damp, or water is unfortunately spilled upon them. If this is 
discovered before the rust has eaten through the plating or polished 
surface, it can easily be removed without defacing the article. But 
if they have lain long unnoticed, and the rust has made its way 
through the surfiice, they must be taken to some manufactory where 
thei-e is an emery-wheel used for polishing, or some jeweler will be 
able to finish them off* as good as new. But in the case of knives 
and forks, they will never be quite as strong, because, in removing 



LITTLE THINGS— BUT USEFUL. 405 

the rust, they must be ground down before repolishing, and will con- 
sequently be thinner. 

We have lately been informed by an accomplished housekeeper 
that she does not waste iier time in trying all the new moth-desti oyers 
or preventives. For years she has used nothing but ground black 
pepper. She spreads out her blankets and such things as she desires 
to pack away for winter, and sprinkles them plentifully with fine 
black pepper, such as she uses on the table. Slie does not study 
economy in its use, but, buying it by the pound, sifts it over with 
an uiii-paring hand. In the fall it can all be easily shaken out 
into a sheet, then put into a tightly covered can and kept for the 
next year. In the fall, when needed for daily use, spiead the arti- 
cles on the line, and, imagining that a good chance to sneeze unre- 
strained is comforting and cheering, give each article a faithful beat- 
ing. If no dampness has come nigh them while packed away, the 
fine, dry pepper will be easily dislodged and leave no annoyance or 
disagreeable smell behind, as camphor and the various papers and 
preparations of carbolic powder do. We have been in the habit of 
using cayenne pepper of late, and found it a thorough preventive; 
but it is very severe on those who use it. The black pepper may 
be equally effective, certainly far less troublesome; but we have 
never tiied it. 

Since hearing of this moth preventive, we found the following, 
which is well authenticated : 

"A lady, called to pack up her woolens and valuables unexpect- 
edly for two or three years' absence, had little time or strength to 
be over-particular. So she tossed the pepper (black) with random 
lavishness — by the pound — through each trunk, box and bag of 
bundles, and, sending them off to a great storehouse, left them there 
untouched for three years. On her return she found all — wool gar- 
ments, fur-trimmed and lined articles — perfectly unharmed. W^ell 
peppered, and without any extra care, every article was clean, fresh 
and undamaged. In fact, this is the best way in which pepper can 
be used : better than wearing out the delicate tissues of the stomach 
by a liberal use in our food. It is, to be sure, useful when put into the 
shoes on a cold journey, or when the blood needs to be coaxed down 
to the feet; but in view of the above evidence, the chief end of 



406 LITTLE THINOS-BUT USEFUL. 

black pepper is to defend mankind from powerful robbers, in form 
and color so indefinite, that even in the matter of identity they are 
capable of deceiving their most familiar victims." 

Now, we have great faith in this statement. We have seen that 
red pepper does do this work thoroughly, and are confident that 
black pepper will be equally powerful, and less painful to the appli- 
cant. If housekeepers will give pepper of any color a fair trial> 
we think it will be satisfactory. Certainly a less disagreeable agent 
than kerosene, which has been largely and satisfactorily tried to 
protect against moths, but is not a pleasant remedy. 

Red pepper plentifully sprinkled in the tracks of rats and mice, 
thrown into their holes wherever found, and about the places where 
they have broken through, will most surely drive them away. Their 
feet are very tender, and if they once walk over such a fiery path> 
they are not inclined to repeat the experiment. Why should not 
the moth be equally sensitive and sensible? 

Cheese can not be long kept after cutting without growing hard 
and difficult to manage except by grating, unless carefully covered. 
Earthen or glass cheese dishes, with a bell top to cover closely, are 
good, at least much better than to risk it uncovered. But if a linen 
or cheese cloth is dipped in white wine, wrung so dry that it does 
not drip, and the cheese perfectly wrapped up in it, thei'e will be 
no difficulty in keeping any cheese quite moist, and the flavor wiU 
improve rather than deteriorate. 

In making tea, the Russians put a slice of lemon and a teaspoon- 
ful of lemon-juice to each cup. No milk is used, but sugar to suit 
the individual taste. Most or many persons spoil their tea by letting 
it boil, even if for a moment. The tannic acid is extracted by boilings 
and that is both bitter and unwholesome. Boiling hot water should 
be put into the tea-pot and the pot kept hot, or, after rinsing it irt 
hot water, which is always done, to be sure it is perfectly sweet and 
clean, drain dry, put in the amount of tea to be used, cover closely,, 
and set vvhere the tea-pot will be kept hot until ready to make the 
tea. Fresh water should be put into the tea-kettle after pouring 
out all that may have been left in it, and the tea made the instant 
this fresh water is fully boiling. If the water is left to boil a long 
time before using, it becomes stale and lifeless, the best properties 



TRAIiMNO CHILDREN. 40T 

of it passing off in steam. When the boiling water is poured on 
to the tea in the hot tea-pot, let it stand not over three minutes 
before serving, and you will have the jierfection of a good cup of 
tea, that is, if the best quality of tea is purchased. This refers ta 
the oolongs and all the varieties of green tea. But in making the 
best of English breakfast, many make the grave mistake of sup- 
posing that class of tea must be boiled, if only for a few minutes. 
The same rule holds good with English breakfast that should be 
followed in making oolong and green teas, with this exception, it 
requires to stand longer than the other kinds before serving. If 
made, as all tea should be, by the mistress at the table, then a 
plated or bronzed tea-kettle over an alcohol lamp, filled with fresh- 
boiled water, will be set before the lady. When making English 
breakfast tea, remove the cover from the tea-kettle after the boil- 
ing water has been poured on the tea, and set the tea-pot over the 
kettle for not more than three minutes. In that way all the strength 
that is palatable or wholesome is extracted, and there will be no 
complaints that the tea is lacking in delicate aroma. 



TRAIN UP A CHILD IN THE WAY HE 
SHOULD GO. 

In their undue anxiety to obey this injunction, morbidly con- 
scientious parents make their own lives and their children's miser- 
able. Feeling that "as the twig is bent the tree inclines," so a 
child almost invariably is what his parents make him, they are in 
continual alarm lest they should show any tendency to excuse a 
fault, or any leniency in dealing with it, and thereby guide the 
child into danger. Led by this fear, they visit the first appear- 
ance of wrong with great severity. 

The slight deviation from rectitude in young children, that are 
overflowing with animal spirits and quick impulses, need not bring 
alarm or great anxiety to the parents' heart, though it may be 
sufficient cause for gentle reproof and quiet, careful watchfulness. 



408 TRAINLXG UP CHILDREN. 

Much that young children do which requires careful handling and 
often causes discomfort, is mere animal instinct, while they have 
as yet no idea of self-control, and are too young to judge of the 
effects of their actions. 

Selfishness and irritability, or quick temper, heedlessness and 
obstinancy, are usually manifested daily in a family of children, 
and only need a tender, loving, judicious hand to so conti-ol and 
modify them as to make them in mature years a blessing. No 
parent desiies to see a child so precociously developed as to have 
no childhood; and the little infelicities that start out now and 
then, causing some trouble and perplexities, only need to be 
watched over and graciously led. For as the child goes on toward 
maturity, the mother will see that the quick temper, ready to 
blaze out for the smallest trifle, was but the dawn, unregulated 
and not yet under control, of a fine sensibility, and often of strong, 
active intellect ; that the stubbonniess and obstinacy of the little 
one, just on the threshold of life, was but the first step which, by 
skillful, not severe training, can be developed into that firmness 
and necessary decision of character which is the finest type of 
manliness. 

If to control these first developments of traits that give the 
parents uneasiness, and sometimes acute fear, the discipline is 
severe, and the necessary watchfulness takes the form of. constant 
reproof or chiding, there will then be great cause for alarm. That 
which w^hen it was first manifested was only a very slight tend- 
ency to disagreeable and annoying traits, and, by proper cultiva- 
tion, might have ripened and matured into tiie best fruit, is often, 
by overcare, by constant fault-finding and irritating reproof, made 
to grow into most unlovely characteristics, and a life become 
blighted, warped and wicked that had the elements, if rightly 
directed, of becoming the staff and stay of the parents' declining 
years. 

Children are often made deceitful through fear of the parents* 
perpetual reproofs or sharp criticisms on their childish actions. 
Few children lie from a love of it; but the habit is more frequently 
begun to escape fault-finding or punishment. A weak or nervous 
character is very liable to begin or lay the foundation of deceit 



TE AIDING UP CHILDREN. 409 

through this fear, which at first is no sign of unnaturally wrong 
instincts or innate depravity. Such children, more than any 
others, need to be upheld by the parents' mature judgment, and 
slowly learn the first principles of self-government. 

But as children grow toward maturity, upheld through the 
process by tlie parents' lirtn but loving guidance, they rapidly 
change ; discarding those traits that seemed tending toward reck- 
lessness and dishonor, they gradually develop into noble, truth- 
loving, honoral)le characters. But this happy change will depend, 
under God, chiefly upon the wisdom through which parents, and 
especially motliers, temper their firmness &.ud government with 
unmistakable love. 

On the other hand, parents are in more danger of ruining their 
children by over-indulgence — by winking at wrong-doing, or even 
laughing at real errors as simply childish folly, which will be soon 
overcome — than they are by over-much government. Some strong 
characters there are which, even from earliest childhood, are not 
seriously injured by the most foolish parental indulgence. They 
seem to have no disposition to be willful, deceitful, disobedient or 
obstinate; but by far the largest number of children — foolishly 
indulged and petted — grow up, if not absolutely ruined, yet very 
unlovely, despoiled of half their best qualities by lack of parental 
government and judicious guiding. "Take this child and nurse 
it for me, and I will pay thee thy \vages," said the Egyptian 
princess to the mother of Moses. But it is also the teaching of 
our Father, when he commits to the mother's hands the nurture 
of an infant. And how rich is the reward if the mother seeks 
divine guidance, and nurses and leads her children up to ma- 
turitv in the love and cheerful obedience of her Maker's com- 
mands ! Let every mother consecrate herself to the service of 
Him who gave his life for her, when the first-born is laid in 
her arms, and then, with the help that always comes with such 
consecration, let her teach her little ones how the Savior loved 
little children, and took them in His arms and blessed them. 

This story of the Savior's love for children — often repeated — 
simplv and cheerfully, will greatly aid a mother to keep fast hold 
of their hearts, and make the years of maternal care very sweet 



410 WASHING-DA YS. 

and precious to both mother and child. Let no mother be in- 
different, or show any lack of sympathy in the little troubles and 
sorrows of her children. Teach them to come to the mother's 
side with every annoyance, however small, in perfect trust that 
she will comfort or show them a way of escape, that they may 
be able to bear what to their young hearts seems a great 
sorrow. 

If parents will, enter so far into their children's amusements 
and plays, as to listen cordially to all they wish to tell — laying 
aside their own work, if they can, or an interesting book, for 
the time being, to share their pleasures — their hold on them will 
be greatly strengthened. 

The days when these little gijis or loam are about us in the 
nursery — or just outgroAving nursery days — but still at home 
and under parental guidance, should be the happiest, richest days 
in a mother's life, if she uses them rightly. Like clay in the 
hands of the potter, these children can be molded and made 
beautiful and good, by the example and loving words of father 
and mother; or by severity, lack of sympathy, and equally a* 
much by over-indulgence, they can be made unlovely, disagreeable, 
useless — cumberers of the ground. 



WASHING-DAYS. 



"If it were not for the washing, housekeeping would lose half 
its terror. But I rise every Monday morning in a troubled and 
unhappy state of mind, for it is washing-day! The breakfast will 
surely be a failure, coffee muddy, meat or hash uncooked, or burnt 
to a coal, every thing untidy on the table, and the servants on 
the verge of rebellion. With a meek and subdued countenance,, 
with fear and trembling, lest some unlucky word of mine may 
infringe upon their dignity, and cause them to leave before the 
washing is finished, I go softly about the house." 

This ought not so to be. In the first place, if you allow your- 



WASHJNG-DA YS. 41 1 

self to be kept thus in bondage to your servants, you destroy all 
hope of comfort. Let them once see that you fear to give them 
offense, and from that hour they are your tyrants. 

Define distinctly the appropriate duties of each; but with this 
proviso, that in emergencies they will be required to lend a help- 
ing hand, in any department, where their services are needed. 
Let them understand unmistakably what your rules are— for you 
can not manage a household without well-digested laws and 
regulations — then kindly but firmly make them know that you 
will have no infringement upon those rules. 

" I wonder how long any girl — my Bridget, for instance — 
would stay were I to take such independent ground." 

Probably not long, if she has learned that she can intimidate 
you ; and once aware of that, the sooner she takes her leave the 
better for your future peace— that is, if you will be taught by 
this experience to begin right with her successor. Those servants 
who fully recognize the lady as their mktress, in something more 
than name, are generally the most respectful and reliable. 

Never allow a girl to give a disrespectful answer, or manifest 
irritability, simply because the work for some days in the week 
may be more distasteful than on others, and never permit them to 
threaten to leave you without insisting that the threat shall be 
carried into eflfect, unless an ample apology is given; for if 
passed over submissively, it will be repeated whenever the girl's 
temper is ruffled. Not for our own selfish comfort alone, but for 
the good of all who are compelled to employ servants, should we 
defend our own rights and position— not till there is concerted 
action, and organized rules that will define the duties and rights 
of mistress and maid, and these rules strictly enforced, will this 
plague, which leaves us at the mercy of our servants, be, stayed. 

And now let us see if there is reafly any good reason why 
washing-day should be so full of terror. If one is feeble, it is not 
easy — nothing is — but to a strong, healthy person, it ought not to 
be burdensome, even if one is obliged to do it one's own self,, 
particularly with the aid of all the " modern improvements." 

Twenty years ago the tubs and wash-benches were to be brought 
from the cellar or area, all the water pumped, and often carried 



412 WASHING-DAYS. 

some distance, heated in a boiler, then poured into the tubs, and 
every article wrung out by hand. Then, in the city, tubs were car- 
ried out into the streets, and the dirty suds emptied into the gutter. 
But there was little complaint then of hard work. What would 
the girl of the present day think if expected to work under such 
disadvantages ? 

Now we have wringers, hot and cold water in the laundry, "tubs 
set," generally, which can be emptied at pleasure without a step, 
making the washing of a medium-sized family not as laborious as 
the Friday sweeping of a large house. With one or two servants 
in the house, to divide the work, washing is not, and should not be 
considered, a hardship. 

Put the clothes to soak over night, rubbing soap on the collars, 
wristbands, bindings, etc., of each article. We have found 
Babbitt's soap very satisfactory, safe and much more economical 
than most soap. It is excellent for bleaching. Cut up several 
cakes in sufficient water to dissolve them, and let it boil till the 
soap is all dissolved, then pour it into a wooden pail, or old 
butter tub that is well cleaned, and, when cold, it will be nice 
soft soap, and keep well as long as it lasts. This is a good way 
to prepare any soap for soaking or boiling clothes. But it is more 
economical to have a cake of hard soap, to use for the dirty spots, 
while washing. . 

Kub soft soap on the dirtiest parts of each garment when you 
put them to soak, and just cover them with water. Table-linen 
should be soaked in a separate tub, and washed first; the fine 
clothes, sheets and pillow-cases put in another, and stockings and 
coarse things in a third tub. 

Early Monday morning put hot water in the first tub, enough to 
make it of a pleasant temperature to begin the washing Table- 
linen and all fine or starched clothes should be washed and hung 
out first, that they may be dried before night. If any are left out 
over night, it should be the stockings and underclothes, both sheets 
and dish-towels; the latter should be soaked by themselves, and 
washed in water that has l»een used for nothing else. 

When a boilerful has been washed, rub soap on all bindings, col- 
lars, etc., and fill the boiler with cold or lukewarm water, and set 



TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING. 415 

over tlie range to boil, not over twenty minutes; then lake them 
into a tub, adding enough cokl water to make it comfortable to the 
hand, when ready to put them through the second suds. AVhile the 
first set of clothes are boiling, of course those for a second boiler- 
ful are being washed aud ready to be put in as soon as the first is- 
removed, that no time may be lost. When the second is over the 
fire, get the first through the next suds and the two rinsjng- 
waters, which should be blued and ready as quick as possible. Do 
not be sparing of rinsing-water. Have your largest tub two-thirds 
full, and put in but a few pieces at a time, so that each article may 
have unobstructed benefit of a large body of water, and idl the soap 
may be removed. Wring and shake out, and put into the second 
rinsing. Shake out each thing from the last rinsing, snapping them 
smooth, lay them loose into the clean clothes-basket, and hang out 
to dry before you begin on the second boiler. Careless rinsing^ 
and wringing will soon turn clothes yellow. When two girls 
assist about washing, one should rinse and hang out while the other 
is washing. It greatly expedites the work, of course, if they do 
not spend half the time talking; but it must be a very large wash 
that, even with but one at the tubs, is not all on the line before 
two o'clock. 

Refined borax, in the proportion of one large handful of the 
powder to ten gallons of boiling water, is said to save neai ly one- 
half the soap, and make the clothes beautifully white and clean. 
It is a neutial salt, and will not injure the fabric. For laces, cam- 
brics, etc., an extra quantity is necessary. The washwomen of 
Belgium and Holland, so famous for the beauty of their work, use 
borax instead of soda. 



TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING. 

Many old and experienced housekeepers find it difficult to believe 
that there exists any necessity for the minute and particular expla- 
nations and directions which we have given from time to time- 



414 TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING. 

But Ave have been led to think this course advisable from the ur- 
gent requests of the young and inexperienced themselves, for whose 
benefit we chiefly write. Letters of rebuke or criticism are often 
received from some of the model housekeepers, which are childish 
in the earnestness of the censure, simply, we are inclined to think, 
because they do not realize how many of our young ladies are need- 
ing more than all the minute details we are endeavoring to supply. 
But it is not strange — remembering their own well-regulated child- 
hood — that they do not understand how large a number of the young 
ladies of the present day are entering into womanhood, and all its 
cares and responsibilities, unblessed by such advantages in domestic 
education as their mothers enjoyed. Even these self-same critics, 
ambitious of giving their own cherished daughters the privileges and 
polish of the most fashionable seminaries, may have sent them early 
from home before they have had an opportunity to profit by their 
mothers' lessons. Now, this being the case, what assurance have 
they that their girls, when the finishing process is completed, may not 
return home eager to "enter society," and quit^ unAvilling — or, if 
allowed to begin the wearisome round of fashionable life, quite un- 
able — to spare time for the tame domestic lessons their mothers 
fully intended to teach, as soon as the young maidens were once 
more under their care ? Or, having * ' conie out," who can promise 
that the daughter will not rush into matrimony before these very 
desirable lessons have been mastered ? If her child assumes the 
care of a house, utterly ignorant of the duties which these cares must 
bring, will she not be thankful for such simple instructions as will 
show her how to begin ? — for one must creep before they can walk. 

One good dame is quite sarcastic because, a few months since, we 
gave minute directions for making beds and regulating chambers. In 
the same mail with this critique, came several letters from young 
housekeepers, rehearsing their troubles and mistakes — the many 
grievous annoyances springing from their ignorance — and begging 
for rules and hints, even more simple than we bad already given. 
"Tell me any thing, just as you Avould a little child — for I know 
absolutely nothing of household labor." 

We refer to these rebukes, only that we may, in explaining the 
sad necessity for such simple instructions, make one more efibrt to 



TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING. 415 

rouse mothers to think of this matter, hoping thereby to impress 
them with the importance of more thoroughly educating their girls 
in all domestic duties. The well-trained maidens of fifty years ago 
were thorough housekeepers before marriage. Perhaps they may 
not have been so closely confined in schools as the present genera- 
tion — hai)py were they if health and usefulness were more valued 
than mere superficial polish — yet some of the best and most highly 
cultivated women now living were trained in the strictest forms 
of the "old time's ways," and added to the greatest intellectual 
attainments that domestic culture which prepared them for more 
certain happiness, with brighter prospects of performing wom- 
an's best and holiest duties satisfactorily, than the daughters of the 
present day can hope for, without some marked change. In look- 
ing back we realize, as only those who have left youth far behind 
them can do, how much more conducive to true happiness and real 
enjoyment that mode of training children was than the })revailing 
custom of this period can be. 

Parents err greatly when they allow their children to forget that 
they should not live simply for themselves — their own selfish ease 
and enjoyment. In the hours of study, close application is desir- 
able ; but in the intervals they should not be allowed to suppose 
that there is nothing else for them to do butseek their own amuse- 
ments. They should be taught the folly of spending the time not 
set apart for study in idleness, in giving and receiving frivolous 
calls, or in mock-shopping, which means nothing more than troub- 
ling the clerks, without the first intention of buying. This is no 
preparation for usefulness or happiness in maturer years. 

After suitable application to study, it is necessary that books 
should be laid aside, and rest from mental labor secured; but we 
do not believe that children, any more than their elders, should 
seek rest through entire idleness. When the mind rests, the body 
demands full and vigorous exercise. At such times let the mother 
rest, while the daughter takes her place a little while, and with 
young, elastic steps secure for her body an hour's suitable exercise, 
either outdoors or in, in a useful and sensible manner. 

"Would you prohibit all amusements or pleasure — making the 
changes to be only from mental labor to bodily — with no relaxation ? 



416 TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING. 

By no means. Sports and amusements have their appropriate 
hours as necessary as study or exeicise; but let each be of a char- 
acter that will keep the body. strong, and the heart pure, and full 
of all sweet and giacious, unselfish qualities. Give to friendship 
and pleasure all tliat they can justly demand ; but not a moment 
to gossip, or such pleasures as lower the lone of the character or 
exclude an idea of useful employment. 

In olden times this idea of usetulness may have been too rigor- 
ously enforced, under the influence of the strict puritanic habits 
which our forefatliers contracted through many trials and great 
persecution ; but, however tiiat may have been, the result gave us 
noble women — useful, happy women — for a useful life is the only 
really happy life ; and then women taught their daughters, even 
when in position to secure the highest intellectual culture, that 
while French and Latin, and all the English studies, together with 
music and painting, were desirable, they were not to forget that 
there was something of even more importance — the perfect under- 
standing of all that pertained to home and domestic duties The 
first was right, but the last indispensable. Fifty years ago, how many 
young women could have been found who, when they had ac- 
cepted tlie duties and responsibilities of wife and mother, would 
need to say to another, "Tell me what to do, and how to do it? 
Teach me as you would a little child its alphabet, for I know 
nothing belonging to domestic affairs ? " 

It is to aid the unfortunate, whose mothers, out of mistaken ten- 
derness, have defrauded their daughters of their birthright, that we 
Avrite ; and also in the earnest hope that mothers will recognize the- 
duty of teaching their daughters how to become women, richly 
dowered with those rare attainments which will enable them to 
n)ake their home like the garden of the Lord. Or, if mothers will 
not rouse from their slumbers, we hope, by giving onr young house- 
keepers the primitive instruction their mothers neglected, to teach 
them lessons which they, with loving care, will impart to their 
little ones; and, remembering the mistakes and mortification which 
their own ignorance caused them, enable them to secure the next 
generation against the same experience. 



CHILDREN'S TROUBLES. 417 



CHILDREN'S TROUBLES. 

How few realize that the troubles, frets, disappointments and 
annoyances which cro,«s the path of little children are as real — as 
hard for them to bear patiently — as those which cloud our brows, 
make us impatient, robbing us of rest or self-control! The pain 
they bring the young, fortunately, is not as lasting, else they could 
not endure it. The childish heart is as yet full of hope, and its 
sources of enjoyment so simple and so easily supplied that the pres- 
ent pain can be more speedily soothed, by anticipations of coming 
pleasures, than will be possible in more mature life. Still the dark- 
ness and disappointments that often come to the little folks bring, 
for the time, as acute pain as older people can feel, and worse in 
this respect : that the child's heart has not yet learned the secret 
of quiet, silent endurance. 

A child, it is true, finds its pleasures and makes its plans on a 
small scale; its hopes and anticipations are usually centered ou 
what its elders consider trifles. But, to the young, their plans and 
pleasures all seem of the utmost importance, and they can not un- 
derstand the indifference shown by their parents or elder brothers 
and sisters. They cling to their fancies as earnestly as men do to 
the great schemes which they labor night and day to perfect. The 
child values his small possessions as highly as men do the millions 
they have gained by hardships, self-denials and ceaseless labor. 
Then the "children of a larger growth," who have battled for 
years to ward off reverses and disappointments, to place the wealth 
so hardly earned on sure foundations, have had time to learn, by 
many sad experiences, that there is always an element of uncertainty 
in every plan or scheme that human wisdom or foresight can weave 
together, and, therefore, though hoping for success, they recognize 
the danger, and are more or less prepared for the failure. 

Not so the young. It takes many and grievous disappointments 
to teach them to look for shadows over their bright hopes and rose- 
hued expectations. For this reason, when such losses come to 
their young, undisciplined hearts, and the brightness of their 

27 



418 CHILDREN'S TROUBLES. 

anticipatious goes out in darkness, the sense of loss is far more acute, 
for a time at least, than older hearts will feel when their most 
important projects come to naught. 

Children often suffer real injustice, and are quite as keenly alive 
to the feeling that it is cruel and unjust, as their elders can be. 
The parent, teacher or playmate who is responsible for the wrong 
and the sharp suffering it brings, of course, it is to be hoped, has 
no intention to act hastily or unkindly. But what to the little ones 
is of untold importance seems to their elders so trivial that parents 
do not feel it is worth while to investigate and ascertain the true 
state of the case. So in a hasty, off'-hand manner they silence the 
complaints of the child, and decide the case in a way that will 
often cause it intense pain, and plant the first seeds of distrust. 
Their confidence is shaken in the wisdom of those who should watch 
untiringly to secure the most perfect development of the best qual- 
ities in those young minds which are so dependent on their care and 
prudence for the wise use of the authority vested in them. 

If parents could understand how much the future of their chil- 
dren depends upon their thoughtful care, on their habits and man- 
ner of training their little ones when young, they would feel the 
great necessity of weighing well their words and acts; they would 
bear in mind that their own convenience, ease or pleasure should 
not be of more importance than the comfort and happiness of their 
young children. No innocent pleasure and enjoyment should be 
sacrificed to the too common plea that it is "inconvenient." D» 
parents imagine that they can enjoy the blessings of seeing their 
little ones grow up around them without making many sacrifices of 
their own present ease and convenience? They should rather 
count any sacrifice for the innocent amusement and healthy devel- 
opment of happy, loving natures in their children as all joy ; for, 
by judicious indulgence and tender sympathy in the small pleasures 
Hnd rights of the little ones, they may safely look forward to the 
time when their lads and lassies will cluster around them, in full 
maturity, the crown and rejoicing of their parents. Then, as loving 
sous and daughters, they will repay, by the tender, watchful care of 
their parents' declining years, all the self-sacrifice, the tendernesB 
and indulgent sympathy bestowed upon their childhood. 



CHILDREN'S TROUBLES. 41& 

We do not believe in that indulgence which has no limit and ex- 
ercises no control, and think that, perhaps, while wishing to exer- 
cise proper restraint, and truly seeking the best good of their chil- 
dren, there may be as many parents who over-govern as there are 
who deny the little ones perfectly safe and harmless pleasures, for 
no reason whatever but that, by allowing them the mother will find 
it inconvenient ot likely to curtail some of her own outside enjoy- 
ments. Yet the first desire that every thing they do should be 
for the best good of their loved ones ; the second act from purely 
selfish motives. 

No mother need to be a slave to her children, or give all her 
time and thought to their pleasure and amusement. It require* 
but little to make them supremely happy. Loving words, gentle 
«miles, "stooping" — if so one chooses to term it — to notice and 
manifest pleasure and interest in all that pleases and intereste 
them, listening to their childish remarks for a short time, will make 
them very happy for hours. If at times it is necessary to refuse 
some childish request, it can be done without causing pain or dis- 
comfort, if the mother, in simple child-language, gives her reasons, 
and directs their thoughts by finding something else more appro- 
priate, but equally pleasing, to substitute in its place. A few gentle 
words and loving caresses wull recall the smiles, and insure the 
child's full enjoyment. 



VOCABULARY OF COOKING TERMS. 

Many of the French terms, now so extensively employed in some of our 
most valuable household manuals, are often a hinderance and a source of 
discouragement to young and inexperienced housekeepers, and indeed to 
older ladies not familiar with foreign words. 

We have seldom used these terms, finding cooks usually take more kindly 
to rules or receipts given as simply as possible. But, by request, we have 
selected a list of terms often found in the best cook-books, and imagine 
many of our young housekeepers will find the list convenient for reference. 

A VOCABULARY OF COOKING PHRASES. 

Alleinande. — The white sauce known as veloute, thickened with cream and 
■whites of eggs, and* seasoned with nutmeg and lemon-juice. 

Angelica. — A plant preserved in syrup. Used to ornament pastry, tarts, etc. 

Aspic Jelly. — Transparent jelly made from meat, and used to garnish 
fancy dishes. 

Au-bleu. — Fish dressed so as to give a bluish tint. 

Baba. — A very light plum-cake. 

Bain-marie. — A loose-bottomed vessel or cistern to be put on a hot hearth, 
or stove, and partly filled with hot water, to keep sauces, soups, etc., up to 
scalding heat without burning or reducing the quantity. 

Bard. — Thin slice of fat bacon to cover any meat or game where " lard- 
ing" is not preferred. 

Bechamel. — A French white sauce made from ham, veal, onions, and a 
variety of seasoning. Similar to veloute, save that the latter is made of 
poultry, etc., instead of meats, 

Beicjnet. — A fritter of any kind, fruit, vegetables, meats, etc., that is dipped 
in batter or egg, and fried. 

Blanc. — A white broth in which to boil poultry, lamb, etc., to make them 
look white. 

Blanch. — Any thing to be boiled — put into cold water, boiled, strained 
and then plunged into cold water. To remove the outside skin of almonds 
in that woy, and thus whiten them. 

BlanqwUes. — Thin slices of any white meat warmed up in white sanoe 
and thickened with yolk of eggs. 

Boiidin, — An entree or side dish prepared with any kind of quenelle or 
force meat. 

Bouilli. — Beef long stewed and served with sauce. 

(-121) 



422 A VOCABULARY OF COOKING PHRASES. 

Bouillon. — The common soup or broth of France. 

Braise. — A mode of stewing in a close-covered vessel, so that none of the 
flavor can evaporate. 

Bisque. — A shell-fish soup. 

Broiche. — A spongy cake somewhat like Bath buns. 

Compote. — Fruit stewed and served with syrup, or stewed pigeons and 
small birds. 

Consomme. — A strong rich gravy used for enriching soups and gravies. 

Calipash. — The glutinous meat of the upper shell of a turtle. 

Calipee. — The glutinous meat of the lower shell of the turtle. 

Caramel. — Sugar boiled until the water all evaporates, and then used for 
ornamental purposes. 

Casserole. — A stew-pan, also a rice-crust molded in form of a pie, baked, 
and filled with puree or mince of game, or a blanquette of white meat. 

Coulis or Cullis. — Rich, brown gravy, made from stewing ham and veal a 
long time. Used to color, thicken and flavor soups and sauces. 

Croquantes. — A bright-colored mixture of fruit and boiled sugar. 

Croquettes. — Finely flavored Minces of meat, fish, fowl, etc., made into plain 
or fanciful shapes and fried. 

Croustades or Dresden Patties. — Eich paste in fancy molds acnd filled with 
mince. 

Q-outon. — A sippet of bread fried and used to garnish hashes, etc. 

Dauhes, — Meat or fowl stewed in sauce. 

Desosser. — To bone. 

Enpapillote. — In paper. A cutlet wrapped in oiled or buttered paper. 

Entree. — Side dish for first course. 

JEntremet. — A corner dish for second course, 

Escahpes. — Collops or round slices of meat. 

Espagnol. — A brown sauce used as the foundation for many other sauces. 

i^awce.— Side dishes for grand dinners. 

Faggot. — A tiny bunch of parsley, thyme, and a bay leaf tied together. 

Farce. — Stuffing or force meat. 

Foncer. — Ham, veal or bacon laid at the bottom of a bake or sauce pan^ 
under meat. 

Fricandeau. — A fancy dish of boned turkey or larded veal as an entree. 

Qalette. — A peculiar kind of Freneh cake. 

Gateau.— A cake. • ^ 

Glaze or Glace. — Stock boiled down to a paste, and when needed warmed 
in the bain-marie, and put on with a brush to improve the looks of braised 
dishes. 

Godiveaux. — Various kinds of force meats. 

Jardiniere. — A mode of stewing vegetables in their own sauce. 

Lardon. — The piece of bacon used for larding. 



,1 VOCABULARY OF COOKING PHRASES. 423 

LeaixT. — A mixture of egg iind cream. 

IM. — A layer of any thing. 

Luting.— A paste to fasten the lids on pie-pans; for preserving game. 

Maigre. — Dishes for fast-days, made without meat. 

Marinailc. — A liquor to boil or stew fish or meat in. 

Matelote.— A rich stew made of fish and wine. 

Mayoimahie. — Cold salad dressing. 

Jferm^'iK;.— Pastry made of sugar and whites of eggs beaten to a snow. 

l/tVotoi.— Pieces not larger than a crown piece made into a ragoU. 

Mignonnettc. — Pepper-corns ground very coarse. 

Nougat. — A mixture of almonds and sugar. 

Noailles. — A kind of vermicelli. », 

Paner. — To use bread crumbs. 

Po'ele. — A kind of broth in which to boil fowls. Much used in nice 
French cooking. 

Pot-au-feu. — The stock pot. 

Projctcrolles. — A kind of pastry creamed inside. 

Puree. — A thick soup. 

Quenelles and Godivcaux. — Different kinds of force-meat balls. 

Ragout. — A very rich sauce, or made dish. 

Rissoles. — Balls of fine mince put in paste, or rolled in egg and bread- 
crumbs, and fried, as an entree or garnish. 

Roux. — A thickening made of butter and flour. 

Salnv'.^. — Game, hashed when half roasted. Hash differs from salmis by 
being made of well-done meat. 

Sauce Piquanle. — An acid sauce. 

Saute. — Fried ; sometimes the frying-pan is called saute. 

Seasoning. — Three bay leaves, six cloves, a blade of mace, pepper and salt. 

Souffle. — The very lightest of puddings. A "puffed-up" pudding is the 
true meaning of the word. 

Stock. — Essence extracted from meat. The foundation of all soups. 

Tainis, or Tammy. — A fine strainer of woolen canvas for straining sonps, 
aauccs, etc. It is sold at all Italian warehouses. 
Tourtc. — A kind of tart baked in sliallow tins. 

Turbans and Mazarines. — Ornamental entrees of force-meats and fillets of 
poultry, game or fish. 
Veloute. — White sauce. 

Vol-au-vent. — Very light puft" paste cut in fanciful shapes, the interior 
scooped out after baking and filled with ragouts of minced sweetbreads, 
chicken, game or fish. 

This list contains most of the French phrases used in all the imported 
cook-books, whether French or English, and now used in almost all receipts 
found in family magazines or household articles. 



424 YEAST. 



"POT AU FEU," OR "POT ON THE FIRE." 

This " pot on the fire " or " stock-pot," is to be found in most French families, 
and the "gentle simmering," which is one of the secrets of French cookery, 
is the most economical as well as the best mode of preparing food. The 
Scientific American speaks of it, calling the attention of housekeepers to 
this permanent "pot on the fire," particularly as occupying a quiet little 
corner of the stove or fire-place, in this wise : 

"It can hardly be said to boil, but it simmers gently, very gently, for 
hours. There it is, the receptacle of many a little bone, whether the trim- 
mings of poultry or butcher's meat. It matters not, every little stray frag- 
ment of wholesome meat finds its way there. A bit of liver is considered a 
great improvement ; and any vegetables that happen to be about, add to its 
pleasant flavor, whether the tops of celery, Jerusalem artichokes — which, 
par excellence, make it delicious — or otherwise okra, tomatoes, carrots, turnips, 
leeks, etc. But supposing it were to be made altogether oT fresh materials — 
which, indeed, in France, it rarely is — this would be a proper recipe: Put a 
gallon of water into a pot ; put into this, either three or four pounds of loin 
of beef, or any similar thing. Add to this an onion or two, or some leeks, 
carrots, or some other vegetable, three or four teaspoonfuls of salt, one of 
black pepper, three cloves. Give it one boil up ; skim carefully. Now 
cover the pot closely, and let it cook gently for four hours at the least. 
About every hour throw a wine-glass of cold water into it to make it clear. 
Taste; it may require a little more salt or pepper, according to taste. Pour 
this soup over toasted crusts of bread. Both soup and meat will be found 
delicious. The whole secret of this lies in the gentle simmering, in a 
covered vessel, whereby the flavor is wholly preserved, and nothing is lost." 



TEAST, 



DEY YEAST. 



Stir corn-meal into the yeast till stiff" enough to cut into small, thin cakes. 
Lay them on a paper, or the molding-board, a"d dry in the shade. When 
thoroughly dried put up in paper-bags, and hang in a cool, dry closet. 
Having again secured good yeast, a housekeeper wlio can not have ready 
access to stores for yeast, will not be apt to be left without yeast in the house 
a second time; but as soon as she finds the supply growing small, will atouoe 
renew it in any of the following ways . 



YEAST. 425 

rOTATO YEAST. 
Boil half a dozen potatoes and a cupful of loose hops, or a piece two 
inches long from a package of pressed hops, in three quarts of water. Tie 
the hops in a muslin bag. Let this boil twenty minutes. Then remove the 
bag of hops; mash the potatoes in the water, very smooth and free from 
lumps, add a tablespoonful of salt, three scant tablespoonfuls of molasses, 
and Hour enough to make it a thin, smooth batter. When milk-warm, stir 
in a yeast-cakc that has been dissolved in warm water, or half a teacup of 
Home kind of lively liquid yeast. Place near the fire where it will keep 
warm, and it will soon ferment, when it should be put into a stone or glass 
jar with a cover and set in a cool place. If this is done as directed, this 
yeast will keep several weeks. 

COMPRESSED YEAST, 

wrapped in tinfoil, has, within a few years, been brought into our city 
stores and is excellent, but it must be bought fresh twice or three times a 
week, and can only be used by those who reside near large towns or cities. 
The Vienna bread is made fi-om this yeast. 

HARD YEAST. 

Stir into a pint of lively yeast enough flour to make a thick batter and 
at'd a tablespoonful of salt. Let it rise. When light stir in Indian-meal 
till stiff enough to roll. Let it rise once more, then roll out thin, cut into 
cakes with a cake cutter, and dry in the shade in clear, windy weather. 
When perfectly dry, put in a bag and hang in a cool, dry place. They will 
keep good si.x: months. One of these cakes, dissolved in a little milk or 
water, is enough for four quarts of flour. 

FRESPI YEAST. 

The" best housekeepers have been known to find their yeast-jug entirely 
empty, or their last yeast-cake vanished, when so situated that they could 
not replenish from the stores or through the kindness of neighbors. Such 
misfortunes should be very few and very far between. But a basis on which 
to prepare fresh yeast, and remedy the evil, can be obtained by the following 
rule — if one has hops in the house : 

Take a tablespoonful and a half of New Orleans molasses, and add to it 
the same quantity of warm water. Stir in enough flour to make a thin 
batter; set it in a warm place — not hot — and it will soon begin to throw 
up bubbles on the top, and in a short time ferment. Meanwhile, have all 
ready to make the yeast as soon as the batter begins to work. Put a 
teacup of hops into a clean porcelain kettle, and add two quarts of boiling 
water. Set over the fire, and boil steadily twenty minutes. Strain it, after 



426 BREAD. 

boiling, into a clean dish. Stir in a pint of flour and a tablespoonful of 
salt. Be sure and stir it free from lumps. Set again over the lire, stirring 
constantly, until it boils up and thickens. If too thick after it boils up, 
pour in boiling water till it is about the consistency of good starch. Then 
pour back into the bowl, cover over till milk-warm, then stir in the "risings" 
made of molasses, flour and water. Set where it will be kept warm until 
it has risen and is quite light. Then put into a jug, cork, and set in a 
cool place for use. 

HOP YEAST. 

Put half a tablespoonful of pressed hops, or a heaping handful of un- 
pressed hops, into three quarts of water, and boil gently for half an hour. 
Strain off the liquor, and when milk-warm, add half a pint-bowlful of 
brown sugar and two tablespoonfuls of salt. With a little of this hop- 
water wet one pound of flour, then gradually stir into this batter the re- 
mainder of the hop-water. Let it stand in a warm place near the fire 
four days to brew; stir it frequently. On the third day boil and mash 
three pounds of good mealy potatoes, and stir them into the yeast. Let 
it stand one more day; then strain and bottle. It will keep in a cool 
place for months. 



BREAD. 

Few things that belong to the mysteries of domestic economy have been so 
much written about as bread-making, and, in part, because there have been 
so many different modes advocated that young housekeepers are bewildered, 
and uncertain upon which theory to build their faith. Particularly is this 
true if daughters are not faithfully instructed by their mothers; if they have 
been accustomed to see the work done in the kitchen and the comforts of the 
table given up wholly to hirelings, and in the many changes in that depart- 
ment with which some families are afflicted, find that a new style of cooking 
must be submitted to with each new-comer. But it is not so where, from the 
cellar to the attic, the mother's supervision and rule are felt ; where, although 
she may be ready to make trial of any thing new that commends itself to 
her judgment, the wife, mother and mistress of the family holds the reins 
still in her own hands, and the cooking is done as her knowledge and experi- 
ence shall deem best, few daughters become mistresses of a family and find 
any mode of making bread so sweet and acceptable as that they liave learned 
to love at home. Unfortunately, in these latter days many girls grow up to 
■womanhood, knowing no home save what they can find in a boarding-house 



BREAD. 427 

or hotel. If they marry sensible men, who have had enough of boarding- 
houses and long for a true home, they will be compelled to seek in cook- 
books, day by day, for the knowledge that they must acquire if they love 
their husbands well enough to try and become good housekeepers or home- 
makers. Hence, with thousands of cook-books and learned treatises on 
domestic economy at their command, they know not which to choose. The 
very abundance of instructions confuses them as much as the vast amount 
of conflicting directions. 

We have received scores of letters requesting rules and direction, a large 
proportion of them relating to bread-making. Added years and experience 
incline us to some modification of rules accepted as correct in more vigorous 
life; and one finds that a less energetic manipulation in many forms of cook- 
ery brings out very satisfactory results, and that very excellent bread can 
be made with one-half the labor and fatigue that is often thought indis- 
pensable. 

No amount of kneading, beating or chopping can give good bread, of the 
first quality, from poor or second-rate flour, and it is best not to use it for a 
month after grinding. The best quality of flour is not sufficient, either, to 
make fivst-class bread if the yeast is not of the best. Perfect flour, the 
perfection of yeast, will not do it if the dough is allowed to sour, or approach 
eo nearly to souring as to destroy the pure, sweet flavor of the wheat. If too 
much yeast is used, no perfection of quality either in flour or yeast will 
secure good bread. It is a mistake which most cooks are very prone to 
make, unless carefully instructed by the mistress, to use too large a quantity 
of yeast. It expedites their work, no doubt, but makes their labor unsatis- 
factory. It must be confessed that very many otherwise excellent cook- 
books make the same mistake. Some people are color-blind, and others are 
equally deficient in taste and smell; and such will never make good cooks. 
We know housekeepers who tell us they can not distinguish between strong 
butter or sweet butter; between sour bread and that whose flavor i^ as sweet 
as new wheat. And these are the ones, who, if their bread is light and 
tender, do not dream that it may be ruined by the strong taste of the hops 
and too much salt, or by too much yeaat. 

The bread was light, tender and baked to a beautiful golden brown; but, 
ah! the bitter taste of the hops had ruined it. "How much yeast did you 
put to your bread?" "One cake and a half to four large loaves — just as 
the receipt book said, ma'am." "W^ell, now we will not mind the book. 
Soak not quite half a small cake of yeast; make a quart of sponge and put 
the yeast to it, adding a teaspoonful of salt and two teaspoonfuls of granu- 
lated sugar, and in the morning we will see what shall be made with it." 
In the morning the sponge was foaming, but as sweet as a rose. It was 
stirred down and a piece of butter lialf the size of an egg rubbed into as 
much flour as would be needed for four loaves, and put to the sponge. A, 



428 BREAD. 

pint of warm, not hot, milk-and-water was stirred to it, and the whole_well 
mixed with a knife. When fully combined, the mass was poured on to the 
kneading-board and chopped about five minutes with a chopping-knife, 
kneading it together in a ball every minute or two, as the chopping spread 
it out. Then the whole was put into the bread-bowl, well covered, and set 
by the range — where no air could strike it nor the draft from an open 
door blow across it. 

This was done a few minutes before the breakfast was dished. By the 
time breakfast was disposed of, the bread was like a pufF-ball, and, taken on 
to the bread-board, was divided into four loaves, lightly molded for three or 
four minutes, put into well-buttered bake-pans, a very little butter rubbed 
over the top, and left to rise. In half an hour it was light enough to put 
into the oven, and by nine o'clock in the morning four golden loaves, of as 
sweet and tender bread as any one could desire, where taken from the oven 
and put aside to cool. 

We give this as an example. If any one is inclined to use it as a receipt 
■we think it will be found reliable. ' 

If rolls or biscuits are needed for tea, a bowlful of this dough may be 
taken out, and two tablespoonfuls of butter worked into it; set it to rise, 
well covered and excluded from the air. When light, mold it down, and set 
on the ice until half or three-quarters of an hour before tea. Then mold 
down again, roll out, and cut in small biscuits, and put into a bake-pan. 
When light, bake. Be sure and not scorch. If as much yeast had been used 
as is too often done, the dough would sour past sweetening before tea-time; 
but when so small a quantity is' taken there will be no danger of souring. 
The rolls or biscuits will be more delicate if the dough is molded down for 
a minute every time it rises up, or whenever one has a call to the ice-chest 
before the time for baking. 

Real, dainty bread can not be made in large loaves. If the pans are about 
twice the size of a brick they are quite as large as desirable. When the 
dough is put into the pan it ought not to be more than two inches thick. 
When it has raised to twice the size it was when put into the pan it is ready 
for the oven. In baking it will rise still higher, and if about five inches high 
when done, that is quite large enough. 

BAKING BREAD. 

In baking bread the oven should be hot enough to prevent any farther fer- 
mentation, but not so hot as to begin to brown or bind the crust and prevent 
its rising any more. The oven must not be as hot vi'hen tlie bread is put in, 
or till it is half baked, as is necessary during the last half of the baking. 

In the baking of bread our ranges and stoves will do excellently, if prop- 
erly managed. If the oven is loo hot the bread will bake outside before the 



BREAD. 429 

heat has penetrated to the very center, and consequently the middle will be 
heavy. Wlien ready to put the bread in the oven, the proper degree of heat 
may be ascertained by holding the bare arm inside the oven. If you can 
not count thirty while the arm is there the oven is too hot to start with. 
The heat at that time should not be higher than 230°. Let it stand at that 
figure till the bread has been in not more than ten minutes, or until it is of 
the same heat all through. This will give the loaf ample chance to rise 
evenly, before it can be crust-bound; then increa^ie the heat to 270° or 275** 
until half done, when, if it seems baking too slow, the heat may be raised 
to 280°. One hour is long enough to bake a loaf of white wheat bread^ 
unles.s quite large, and in a range or .stove oven it is not desirable to attempt 
to bake a large loaf. Be careful that no door or window brings a draft over 
the stove while baking, and that the sun does not shine full on the stove, as 
it will deaden the fire materially. Open the oven door as seldom as possible; 
and, if necessary to turn the loaf round in the oven, endeavor to do it without 
bringing it into the air. 

SPONGELESS BRE.VD. 

Sift with one quart of flour one teaspoonful of salt, mix to the flour one 
teacup of fluid yea.st or one cake of yeast that has been perfectly dissolved 
in water. Stir the yeast well into the fl(3ur, then add one pint of warm milk 
or water — just one pint. Mix all together with a chopping-knife until it 
becomes quite tender, then sprinkle flour over the bread-board, turn this 
dough out on the board, sprinkling the dough with a very little flour, and 
knead twenty-five minutes, not roughly. When the finger can be pressed 
into the dough without any adhering, leaving a clean hole, it is kneaded 
enough. Put it back into the bread-bowl, cover closely and set in a warm 
place to rise. It should be placed where no draft from door, or window, or 
cold air from the floor can strike across it, as that will stop the rising and 
make the dough heavy. 

When light, turn the dough from the pan to the floured molding-board, 
and knead gently ten minutes. Make into loaves; put into a well-buttered 
bake-pan; let them rise again, not too long — twenty minutes should make 
them light — and bake one hour. 

If hard yeast is used, it should be dissolved an hour or two before needed; 
and, wiien dissolved, stir in a handful of flour, enough to make a batter, and 
when light it will be the same as liquid yeast. This is a better way to use 
hard yeast than simply dis.'iolving it. 

SPONGED BREAD, 

which some prefer, is made as follows: Boil four mealy potatoes. When 
done, peel and roll perfectly free from lumps. Put to them a teaspoonful of 



430 BREAD. 

salt and a tablespoonful of sugar, and enough of the boiling water in which 
the potatoes were boiled to make a thin batter. "When about milk-warm, 
stir in half a teacup of liquid yeast, or one cake of hard veast prepared 
as above directed, or a cake of compressed yeast, whichever is the most 
convenient. Beat all together into a smooth batter; set in a warm place, 
free from drafts; cover closely. Be very careful that it is not left long 
enough to sour in the least, but when light stir in sufficient flour to make 
a soft dough; and knead it till it grows elastic under the hand. Set it to 
rise as before; when light, knead it twenty minutes. Set it to rise again, 
and when light divide into four loaves without much kneading; put into 
buttered bread-pans, and when once more light bake half an hour. The 
loaves being small and well risen will not require so long baking, and 
should be very light and delicate. But we do not think bread sponged 
and set to rise so often has ever the sweet, pure taste of the flour, or can 
be as nutritious as the unsponged and twice-raised bread. This, however, 
is purely a matter of taste. 

Sponged bread can be made with but two kneadings — after the sponge 
is light — as follows: 

To two quarts of flour put a half cup of sugar, and a tablespoon, even 
full, of salt. Sift all together carefully, then add a cupful of yeast, or hard 
yeast prepared as directed, and enough warm milk (if not plenty, water will 
answer ) to make a smooth batter. Cover closely with bread-cloth and 
blanket, set in a warm place, avoiding cold air. When light, stir to the 
batter sufficient flour to make a soft dough, knead with both hands until 
the dough will n^t adhere to the fingers, set it to rise, and when light 
make into loaves, put into buttered pans, and when risen — bake. 

It is a mistake to make bread dough too stiff. No rising will make the 
bread delicate and tender. Use as little flour as possible without making 
the kneading too difficult, and the bread will be tender and delicious, and 
Jjeep without growing hard. 

Another mistake is in kneading too long and too roughly. Twenty min- 
ntes is the best time for the first kneading, and ten for the second. If 
thrice kneaded, when making into loaves no work is necessary but just to 
get it into shape. 

Care must also be taken in molding or kneading the bread that the 
dough is brought in from all sides — the outside turned inward, the middle 
outward, with each successive movement — until the whole mass has had 
equal attention, and a blow with the fist in the center will make the whole 
rebound like a rubber ball. Then it is kneaded enough. 

GOOD BREAD. 

Stir one quart of lukewarm water into the center of seven pounds of flour. 
Throw in half a tablespoonful of salt and the same of sugar, then add half » 



BREAD. 431 

gill of yeast. Have ready a pitcher of more lukewarm water, and, after 
stirring the first with the yeast into the flour, add as much more as mav be 
needed to make a good dough, not very stiff', mixing and kneading it with 
both hands tiioroughly. When well kneaded, sprinkle over the top a little 
Hour, cover with a large bread-cloth, and a bread-blanket over that. Set it 
by the stove or in a warm place four or five hours to rise. When light, 
knead again fifteen minutes, divide into loaves of suitable size for the pans, 
cover up, and again let it rise. When light, bake in a quick oven. 

Potato Bread may be made like the above, with the addition of half a dozen 
mealy potatoes, grated or sifted and mixed with the flour. 

EXCELLENT BREAD. 

Take two-thirds of a yeast-cake dissolved in a little warm water, and two 
teaspoonfuls of sugar. Pour this into three quarts of flour, adding one tea- 
spoonful of salt. Mix well with one hand, adding warm (not hot) water 
with the other, about one pint — or milk and water, if prepared. Then knead 
for twenty minutes, adding only just flour enough — and no more — to clear 
the dough from the hands and pan. Cover with a thick cloth (be sure that 
it is perfectly clean and never used for any thing else). Let it stand all 
night, and mold out in the morning, not kneading any more than is abso- 
lutely needed. Let it stand in pans till light. This will fill two long, nar- 
row pans and make a pan of rolls. 

CORN-BREAD. 

One quart sour milk or buttermilk, one tablespoonful of butter, and one 
of lard. Beat the yolks of three or four eggs very light, add one table- 
spoonful of sugar, a scant teaspoonful of salt, a small teacup two-thirds full 
of wheat-flour, and stir in enough of sifted corn-meal to make a goud batter, 
not very thick. Dissolve in milk or tepid water a teaspoonful of soda, and 
while dissolving, beat the whites of the eggs very stiff". Stir them into the 
batter, then add the soda the last thing. Beat all together until there is no 
povssibility of any of the soda settling and making yellow spots. Bake in 
shallow pans. It is always safest to strain the soda, when dissolved, through 
a very fine strainer, and thus make assurance doubly sure that there will 
be no yellow spots in the bread. 

Another. — Scald one heaping pint of corn-meal with just enough boiling 
water to wet it all through. Set aside to cool, or scald it over night. Wlien 
ready to bake, put one teaspoonful of soda into tepid water to dissolve, 
throw in one teaspoonful salt, one tablespoonful sugar, and the well-beaten 
yolks of three eggs. Beat the whites stiff", and stir in after you have added 
one quart of buttermilk or sour milk. Beat it together very thoroughly, 
and add the dissolved and strained soda last. Give another good beating; 



432 BREAKFAST CAKES. 

have the oven very hot, and bake as soon as all is beaten together. Do not 
use a very deep pan. 

Another.— Slit and scald over night, in enough boiling water to thoroughly 
moisten it, two cups of corn-meal. In the morning put to one cup of wheat- 
flour one teaspoonful of cream of tartar, and sift them together. Dissolve 
half a teaspoonful of soda in one cup of sweet milk. Leave it.standing till 
two eggs — yolks and whites— are well beaten separately. Put into the meal 
two tablespoonfuls of sugar and one of butter. Strain the milk and soda 
through a fine strainer, beat it to the meal, add the eggs — first the yolks, 
then the whites — the last thing. Give all a quick, thorough beating, and 
put immediately into a quick oven. 

BREAD WITH COEN-MEAL MUSH. 
Make two quarts of white corn-meal into mush by boiling it in either 
water or milk ; milk is the best. Let it cook slowly for an hour. While 
cooking sift eight quarts of flour into your bread-bowl. Make a hole in the 
center, and when the mush is cool enough not to injure the yeast, pour it 
into the center of the flour; stir in warm milk or water; mix in a portion 
of the flour and a teacup of good hop-yeast, or a cake of dried yeast, or such 
yeast as one is most accustomed to use. Cover, and let it stand over night. 
In the morning knead well and make into loaves. Set by the fire. It will 
be light in a short time. Bake thoroughly. This makes very sweet, light 
bread; will keep moist much longer than any other, and saves flour. 

SOUTHERN CORN-BREAD. 
Beat two eggs very light, add one pint of water and stir well; put in one 
teaspoonful of salt, same of yeast-powder, and add meal enough to make a 
batter that will pour out of the pan. Put a tablespoonful of lard in the 
baking-pan, set it in the oven and let it get hot; pour the batter in it, and 
bake a nice brown. I assure you, you will never make any other kind after 
eating this. 



BREAKFAST CAKES. 



HOW TO USE STALE BREAD. 

There are many modes of using stale bread, and each in its way, as needed, 

excellent. If all the pieces that fall off" when cutting a loaf, or such as are 

dry and stale, are put into a half-warmed oven or set into the heater back 

of the stove till sufficiently dried to pound or roll fine, then put into a 



BREAKFAST CAKES. 433: 

canvas-bag, and hung in a cool, airy place, it is very nice to use for stuffings,. 
and, if sifted, excellent to roll oysters, sweetbreads, or chops in^ for frying^ 
Kept in bags, ready ground, rolled and sifted, it is a nicer and more conven- 
ient way to use for puddings than when soaked in large pieces. The pudding: 
will be much more delicate. 

They are also better for panoakes or griddle-cakes than large pieces; but 
even this bread-dust should be soaked in sweet milk until perfectly soft 
before the soda, sour milk, etc., is added. If slices or hirge bits of bread iu-e- 
used, a potato-masher is a gooil thing with which to work the softened bread 
into a smooth paste. 

This is also an excellent way to use up sour bread; but, when using sour 
bread for griddle-cakes, one needs to use more soda, to sweeten not only the 
sour milk but the acid in the bread as well. It is better to stir half the 
soda needed, after being perfectly dissolved, into the softened bread before 
adding the sour milk. After that is poured in, stir in the rest of the soda.. 

BREAD PANCAKES. 

Soak the bread — about a quart — in as little sweet milk as will thoroughly 
moisten it; then mash the bread until it is a smooth paste; then add a tea- 
cupful of sour milk, half a teaspoonful of soda perfectly dissolved in tepid 
water, and stir in carefully sufficient flour to make a batter just stiff enough 
to make the cakes light without being thick and hard. (In other words,, 
make them just as thin as they can be baked without sticking or tearing.) 
Try a cake or two on the hot buttered griddle, if you have any doubt about 
it. Eggs are not necessary to make light, wholesome pancakes of this kind,, 
but if plenty, or not too expensive, they add greatly to their delicacy. Two, 
three, or four eggs, as you can spare them. 

SCOTCH BANNOCKS. 
Rub a piece of butter the size of an egg into a quart of real sweet Scotch 
oatmeal; add enough cold water to fornn a stiff paste; knead well and roll 
as thin as possible. Bake in a slow oven till of a light brown. They are- 
not good if not made very thin. 

GRAHAM GEMS. 

Graham gems are made by taking one pint of milk, one-half pint Grahaitt 
flour, one-half pint wheat-flour, one teaspoonful salt; beat all together till 
smooth, then add two well-beaten eggs. Heat and butter the gem-pans, and 
drop in the dough while they are quite hot. Fill two-thirds full. 

BUNS FOR GOOD-FRIDAY. 
Make a sponge of three cups of milk, one cup of sugar, a teaspoonful of 

salt, one cup of yeast, and flour sufficient to make a stiff batter. Let it rise- 

28 



434 BREAKFAST CAKES. 

all night. In the morning, soften one cup of butter, and beat it with one 
more cup of sugar to a perfect cream. Dissolve half a teaspoonful of soda, 
and beat into the sponge; add the beaten butter and sugar, and enough more 
flour to mold easily. When well kneaded, cut in shape, and leave thera to 
rise half an hour. If the sponge was very light, a half an hour in the 
morning should make them light enough. A couple of eggs, very thoroughly 
beaten, yolks and whites separately beaten into the sponge in the morning, 
is, we think, an improvement ; but that is not needful. 

Or, break two eggs into a good-sized coffee-cup, beat them, and fill the 
cup with fresh milk; beat the eggs and milk together and pour into a large 
dish. Eeat one cup of butter and two of sugar to a froth, grate in one-fourth 
of a nutmeg, add two-thirds of a cup of yeast, and make all into a soft 
dough with flour. Let it rise till very light, throw in a few currants, and 
then mold into buns, not too large, taking care that some of the currants ai'e 
in each bun. Let it rise a second time in the pans, then bake. When 
nearly done, if preferred, glaze the top of each biscuit with a little mo- 
lasses and milk. 

HOT CROSS-BUNS. 

Sift two and a half pounds of flour, and set before the fire, or where it will 
get hot without scorching. When the flour is quite warm, beat half a pound 
of sugar and the same quantity of butter very light and put to the flour, 
half a teaspoon of powdered cinnamon, and the same of coriander-seed; wet 
the whole with half a pint of warm milk. Beat very light and free from 
lumps, then beat in two tablespoonfuls of good light yeast. Set to rise, and 
when risen handle lightly as you form the dough into buns. On each bun 
cut a cross with the back of a knife. Bake and serve hot Good-Friday 
morning. 

LIGHT WAFFLES. 
Put half a pound of butter into a clean -strong cloth, and pound it till 
quite soft, then take it into a dish and beat with a large silver fork till it 
becomes a thick cream. Beat the yolks of six eggs to a stiff cream, and stir 
in them half a pound of flour till smooth, then add the beaten butter and 
half a pint of rich, sweet milk. Beat all well together, adding the beaten 
whites of the eggs the last thing, and bake. 

GRAHAM OR OATMEAL CRACKERS. 

Half a pound of Graham flour, two gills of sweet cream, half a teaspoonful 
of salt;-' mix, roll thin, cut in squares or rounds, lay on tins, prick thoroughly 
and bake quickly. 

Oatmeal crackers are made bv mixing the meal with warm water, a little 



BREAKFAST CAKES. 435 

salt; knead well, roll thin, place on iron plates or sheets, cut in squares, 
bake on a griddle till done; then put in a toaRter before the fire till dry 
and crisp. 

SWEET BREAKFAST MUFFINS. 

Sift two teaspoonfuls baking-powder with one quart flour; add one cup 
sugar; rub into the flour a piece of butter the size of an e^g, then stir in one 
pint of milk. Beat free from lumps in a smooth batter. Bake in muffin 
rings on the top of the stove, or in gem-irons in the oven. 

GRAHAM GEMS WITHOUT SODA OR BAKING-POWDER. 

Stir in one cup milk to one even cup flour; no thicker, or they will be 
tough and heavy. Butter the gem-irons, and have both gem-irons and oven 
quite hot. Stir free from all lumps before putting into the oven. If tbe«e 
directions are followed, the gems will be very sweet and light. 

HOMINY FRITTERS. 

Take two teacupful? cold boiled hominy, one cup sweet milk, four tea- 
spoonfuls flour, a little salt and one egg; beat vigorously, and drop with a 
spoon into hot lard; fry until brown. Kice can be used instead of hominy. 

CORN-MEAL ROLLS. 

Make a kettle of corn-meal mush. To two quarts of the mush add a 
teacup of unmelted lard and a teaspoonful of salt, and, when sufficiently cool, 
a cup of yeast. Knead in flour until it is about the same as any other 
bread, and let it rise over night. In the morning roll out, and bake in 
a moderate oven. 

GRAHAM BREAD. 

Take some white bread-sponge — the quantity to depend upon how much 
you wish to make; to enough of the sponge for one loaf add a cup of molaa- 
ses and a little warm water; stir (not knead) the Graham flour into it; 
make the dough a little stifFer than that for corn-bread ; let it rise, and bake 
it in a slow oven. Another way, which has the advantage of being made 
quicker than the other, is to take two cups Graham flour and one cup white 
flour, one of sour milk, one of molasses, one teaspoonful of soda; stir it 
thoroughly and put in a well-buttered tin, steam two hours, then dry off 
in the oven. 

JOHNNY-CAKE. 

One pint meal, one of sour milk, two tablespoons sugar, two of melted 
lard or butter, two eggs, two heaping tablespoons flour, one teaspoon eoda 



436 BREAKFAST CAKES. 

and a little salt. Sweet milk can be used in the place of the sour, by usingf 
three heaping teaspoons baking-powder instead of soda. 

FLOUR GEMS OR PUFFS. 

Drop into a pint of milk one egg and a little salt. Stir in gradually one 
pint of flour. Beat this batter till quite light and free from lumps or a 
particle of unwet flour. Let them stand on the top of the stove a few min- 
utes, after having put the batter into hot buttered gem-pans, then put into 
the oven and bake quickly. Corn-meal or Graham can be made in the same 
way — only add two tablespoonfuls of flour to corn-meal; or, if gems are 
desired for dessert, they need a little more care, should be made richer. 
Melt three ounces of butter in a pint of cream. Let it stand till cold, then 
add to it two ounces of flour, beaten till smooth. Beat the yolks of four 
eggs with two ounces of white sugar. Spice to taste. Add the whites of two 
eggs, beaten very light, the last thing. Bake in gem-pans, or cups, and 
serve the instant they are done, as they will fall and become heavy by 
standing Eat with any jam that is agreeable. 

APPLE-BREAD. 

Peel and chop very fine one pint of nice apples, and put to one quart of 
Indian meal that has been scalded and left to cool. Beat to a cream one 
egg and half a tablespoonful of butter, and add to the meal, with half a tea- 
spoonful of salt. If the apples are sour, add two tablespoonfuls of sugar, but 
sweet apples are much the best. Mix with rich milk if sweet apples, with 
cold water if sour, to rather a stiff dough, and bake immediately. 

MUFFINS. 

Beat one teacup of butter and one of sugar to a stiff cream; beat four eggs 
very light — yolks and whites separately — and beat them into the sugar and 
butter till quite light. To four quarts of flour put a half teaspoonful of salt. 
Pour into the middle of the flour a cup of good home-made yeast, or what- 
ever yeast you are accustomed to use — as much as you usually take for four 
quarts of flour; then stir in the sugar, butter, and eggs, with two quarts of 
sweet milk. Let it rise over night, and bake in well-buttered muffin-riser» 
in the morning. 

SALLY LUNN. 

Take one quart of flour, one teacup of butter, one teacup of home-made 
yeast or half an yeast cake, one pint of milk. Stir all together till smooth; 
then beat the yolks of three eggs very light, and stir into the batter — beating 
it very light — then add the whites, beaten stiff, and a teaspoonful salt; let it 



BREAKFAST CAKES. 437 

rise over night if for breakfast ; if for tea, pre{)are in the morning. When 
light, put it into pans and let it rise again. When well risen the eecond 
time, bake and send to table hot. 

INDIAN-MEAL WAFFLES. 
Beat the yolks of two eggs thoroughly; add to tliem one tenspoonful 
butter, one of wheat flour, and one of salt. Then add one pint of sweet 
milk, and one of corn-meal, stirred in gradually so as not to be lumpy. 
Bake in waflle-irons. 

BISCUIT. 
Put to one quart of flour two teaspoonfuls of Defiance Baking-powder. 
Sift the two together. Rub tck the flour one tablespoonful of butter, half 
teaspoonful of salt. Stir all well together, then add sufficient milk or water 
to form a very soft dough. Bake immediately in a quick oven. 

GKAHAM BISCUIT, 

Stir with a spoon tepid water into Graham flour until stifT enough to form 
into a dough as soft as can be kneaded; roll out when sufliciontly kneaded 
to be well mi.xed, and cut into cakes three-quarters of an inch in thickness. 
Lay tliem in baking-pans so they will not touch each other, and bake in a 
quick oven, letting them remain long enough to become brown and crisp, 
wliich, with a good heat, will require about twenty-five minutes, or taking 
them out when just done through, as one prefers; if not sufficiently baked, 
they will be heavy at the bottom. Put them on a grate or colander to cool, 
that they may not steam and become heavy. This bread is excellent for 
growing children and for brain-workers. None of its nutritive qualities are 
diminished by fermentation, and eaten with good cows' milk and some sub- 
acid fruit it forms perfect food. 

CRUSHED WHEAT. 

Put two teacups of crushed wheat to four cups of boiling water. Stir it 
till all the lumps disappear, then put it into a steamer, or double boiler, or 
farina-kettle. It can be cooked so as to be palatable in thirty minutes, but 
is much nicer cooked tliree or four hours, and in a steamer or double boiler 
it can be cooked that long without burning; but if simply boiled, it can not 
cook to perfection without drying on the kettle, occasioning much waste. 
Crushed wheat, if steamed, may be cooked in milk instead of water, and be 
improved. Serve warm or cold, and eat with sugar and cream. After it 
becomes cold it maybe re-warmed in a steamer; but never break it up. It is 
not nice fried, but it may be cut in slices and put into a quick oven 
till brown. 



438 BREAKFAST CAKES. 

When cooking crushed wheat, whortleberries may be stirred in fifteen 
minutes before it is done; but do not break the berries while stirring. Dried 
berries can be used, but must cock an hour, and the wheat must be made 
thicker than when made plain. Raisins and dates are sometimes used, but 
we do not think them very agreeable. 

CORN-CAKES, 

Corn-cakes made of three teacupfuls Indian-meal, one tablespoonful sugar, 
one of butter, one teaspoonful salt, one egg, one and one-half pints boiling 
water. Put all the ingredients except the egg together, pour on the boiling 
water, add the egg, and beat thoroughly. Spread on tins and bake half an 
hour in a hot oven. This quantity will make three or four sheets. The 
granulated meal takes more moisture than the old-fashioned meal, and is 
much nicer; there is no bran or waste. 

MOCK BUCKWHEAT-CAKES. 

Warm one quart of skimmed milk to the temperature of new milk ; add 
one teaspoonful of dairy salt and three tablespoonfuls of good lively yeast ; 
, thicken to the consistency of real buckwheat cakes with Graham meal, in 
■which three small handfuls of fine corn-meal has been mixed. Very coarse 
"middlings," such as one gets from country mills, answer quite as well, 
and none but an expert would know the diflference between the imitation 
and the real. 

VIRGINIA MUFFINS. * 

One quart flour, one teaspoon salt, one tablespoon sugar, one of butter and 
lard mixed, one of well-mashed Irish potato, three well-beaten eggs, one-half 
teacup home-made yeast. Eub the butter and lard into the flour, then the 
mashed potato ; salt and sugar should be sifted with the flour. Pour into 
this the eggs and yeast, and make into a soft dough with warm water in 
winter and cold in summer, and knead thirty minutes by the clock. If 
wanted for an eight o'clock winter breakfast, make up at eight the night 
before. At six o'clock the next morning make the dough into twelve round 
balls Avithout kneading, and drop into well-greased tin baking-cups. These 
cups should be smaller at bottom than at top, and must be three and one- 
half inches deep. Grease the hands and pass them over the top of each 
mufiin ; set them in a warm place for full two hours, and then bake. The 
depth of the cup is important, because, if properly made, they rise to the 
top or nearly so, and would be heavy if baked in the shallow cups com- 
monly used. 



BREAKFAST CAKES. 439 

HULLED CORN. 

We have no knowledge of the mode in which the hulled corn that is sold 
by grocers is prepared, but will give our own way, which to our taste is 
preferable. 

Tie in a strong bag one pint of strong wood-ashes. Oak-ashes is the best. 
Put a pailful of cold water into a well-cleaned kettle, and to it put the bag 
of ashes and four quarts of good, bright corn. (That just harvested is better 
than corn that has hardened through the winter, as it requires less time to 
cook, and is really sweeter.) Let the water heal gradually, and after it 
reaches the boiling point, let it boil slowly .several hours. Try a few kernels 
of the corn occasionally by rubbing them in a bowl of water to see if the 
hulls are beginning to slip ofl". Let it all continue to boil slowly till the 
hulls slip off easily. Then take all the corn into a pan of water, and rub it 
between the hands till free from hulls. If well cooked, this is easily done. 
Save a pint of the lye-water in which the corn was boiled, strain it till clear, 
and put to the corn after it has been washed, and, adding more fresh water, 
put it again over the fire, and boil slowly till quite tender. When nearly 
done, salt to suit your taste. 

Prepared this way it is better flavored, or rather has some flavor, while 
that manufactured for sale has no more than cotton-batting. When eaten 
with rich milk, or with cream and sugar, or butter and sugar, it will be rated 
quite palatable. 

Another way. — One quart of corn put to soak at night in Avarm water. In 
the morning change the water to enough to boil it in, put in a rounding 
teaspoonful of soda, and boil till it will hull. Rinse as you would any corn. 

*A WELSH RAREBIT. 

Grate a pound of rich cheese, set it over the fire, and mix with it one gill 
of cream (some put in a gill of ale instead). Work it over the tire quite 
smooth with a spoon, add a saltspoonful of dry mustard. Toast two large 
slices of bread, lay them in a hot dish, and as soon as the cheese is thoroughly 
melted, pour it over the bread, and serve hot. 

BERKSHIRE RUSK. 

One cup sweet milk, one of yeast, one of sugar, one of flour; set over 
night; in the morning add one-lialf cup sugar, one-half cup butter, rubbed 
together, two eggs, reserving white of one, beaten to a froth, with little sugar, 
to spread over the top. 

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE. 

Take a coffee-cup of cream or sour milk, beat into a little salt and a small 
teaspoonful of soda, and before it stops foaming stir in enough flour to enable 



440 BREAKFAST CAKES. 

jou to roll it out, but be sure not to get it very stiff. Koll into three circles, 
spread butter on top of each, and place one on top of the other. Bake till 
well done. Then pull the three layers apart, butter one and cover with 
strawberries, then butter the second and lay (crust downwards) over the 
first. Pile more strawberries on the second, and cover with the third crust, 
which need not be heaped with berries unless preferred. Set in the oven a 
few minutes, and then serve hot with cream. Before making the crust, stir 
into three pints of ripe, rich strawberries a coffee-cup of granulated sugar, 
and leave it covered over till the crust is done. 

If cream or sour milk is not plenty, use sweet milk, and sift into the flour 
two teaspoonfuls (scant) of baking-powder, and as you roll out, spread on 
three tablcspoonfuls of ice-cold butter. 

Pounded ice is excellent eaten on top of a saucer of sugared berries. 
Wrap the ice in a clean, coarse towel, and pound with the flat part of a 
iiatchet. 

STRAWBERRY CAKE NO. 2. 

One quart of sifted flour, three-fourths of a cup of lard, one-fourth of a 
cup of butter, rub the shortening into the flour thoroughly. Dissolve a 
«cant teaspoonful of soda in cold water, and pour a teacup of sour milk into 
the flour; then beat in the soda, knead quickly pretty stiff, add more flour 
if one quart is not enough. It is impossible to give the exact quantity of 
flour, as some kinds require more liquid than others. When ready, divide 
into four parts, roll out the size of the plate it is to be put on. Put one 
cake on the plate, spread a little butter over, and then roll out the second 
and put over it. The butter will help to split it open without making it 
heavy. Eoll out the third piece and put on another plate, spreading butter 
over as before, and lay the fourth sheet over; bake quickly. W^hen done, 
•open the edge with a knife, if needed, and then pull it in two. Have the 
berries well sweetened while the cake is baking ; and when the cake is ready 
spread over the berries, putting little bits of butter over the berries, cover 
with another cake, and so on till the four are placed one over the other. 
'Set in the oven about five minutes. Eat with cream, if plenty. Any fruit 
is good used for the shortcake — oranges, pine-apples and all kinds of 
berries. 

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE NO. 3. 

To one quart of flour sift two teaspoonfuls of the acid and one teaspoon- 
ful of the soda of Hosford's Bread Preparation. Add one tablespoonful of 
white sugar and a little salt. See that these are all thoroughly mixed with 
the flour before wetting it. As this is important, it is better to put all into 
the quart of flour, and then mix them together. Chop three tablcspoonfuls 



OATMEAL. 441 

of butter into the flour when thus prepared. Beat up one egg very light, 
and put to a large cupful sweet milk. Turn it into the flour, and stir all 
together as quickly as possible, and with little handling. Roll into two 
sheets, each half an inch thick. Bake in a well-greased pan, laying one 
sheet over the other. Either spread a little butter between the sheets or 
sprinkle a little flour between, so that they can be easily separated when 
done. Be careful not to scorch the short-cake, but when done, while yet hot, 
separate them, and put a thick layer of strawberries between the two crusts, 
sprinkling the berries with powdered sugar. That is the rule; but for our 
own table we prefer the granulated sugar, as powdered sugar is so seldom 
found unadulterated. Cut the short-cake like a pie, and eat with cream 
and sugar. 



OATMEAL. 



REMARKS. 



Oatmeal is quoted by medical authorities as one of the most healthful 
and nutritious of all our cereals; and, coming with such indorsement, it is 
surprising that it is not more generally used. To be sure it is accepted as 
one of the best substitutes for an infant's natural food, and for teething or 
delicate children just passing out from infancy, and is also becoming fash- 
ionable for a light breakfast or relish ; but there are many other ways in 
which it can be cooked so as to be quite acceptable and an agreeable variety 
or addition to our bill of fare for daily use.'' The oats grown in our country 
are much preferable to those raised in England ; but must yield to the supe- 
rior excellency of Scottish oats, for their climate is better adapted to pro- 
duce the most perfect specimen of this variety of grain. In preparing the 
meal they also excel, and Scotch oatmeal, for infants particularly, and indeed 
for general use, is universally called for in preference to any otlier. 

There is one advantage that this grain has over all others, and that is, 
that it improves with age and can be transported to all parts of the world 
w^ithout danger of heating, souring or molding, unless injured by the grossest 
carelessness. It is probable that this is largely owing to the peculiar mode 
of preparation, which the Scottish people seem to understand better than we 
do. Oatmeal needs more cooking to secure the best results than any other 
grain ; but, Avhen thoroughly and properly cooked, it is very much more 
strengthening than any other meals or flours, and does not require much 



442 OATMEAL. 

more than half the weight of wheat-flour to bring " porridge," " mush " or 
"gruel" to jiroper thickness. 

Nowhere is oatmeal used so largely for food as in Scotland, and in some 
parts it is almost the entire food for a portion of the most vigorous and 
hardy class of laborers in the world. 

Wheat and Indian corn are so abundant in our country, and so inexpen- 
mve, comparatively, as to be largely within the reach of all, and our people, 
from childhood, have become accustomed to their use; and as they are of a 
more delicate flavor than the coarser but more strength-giving oatmeal, it is 
not so readily adopted as an article for general use. But accustom young 
children to its use from infancy, and it will soon be as much relished by all 
classes as it is in Scotland ; and it may be hoped with as invigorating effect 
on the constitutions of the rising generation. 

SIMPLE OATMEAL CAKE. 

Wet the meal with hot water, add a little salt, and then knead into a 
dough; roll out very thin, and bake on iron plates till quite dry, but 
without scorching. 

OATMEAL POERroOE. 

Put as much water into a saucepan as will make the quantity of porridge 
required. Let it boil ; then take a handful of oatmeal in the left hand and 
let it fall gradually into the water, and with a wooden spoon in the right 
hand stir the water and meal round and round, constantly letting more meal 
fall from the left hand slowly, till the whole is as thick as common hasty 
pudding or mush ; then salt to taste, and let it boil ten minutes ; add a little 
more boiling water, and boil five or ten minutes longer, stirring briskly to 
prevent its scorching. It will then be quite smooth and very digestible. 
Long boiling is the great secret of making it nutritious and digestible. 

SCOTCH OATMEAL CAKE. 

Put half a pound of oatmeal into a pint basin; put into a teacup a piece 
of butter or lard the size of a hazelnut, and a small pinch of soda — about 
half a salt-spoonful; pour on this half a cupful hot water; stir till the 
butter and soda are melted, then mix it quickly into the meal with the 
point of a knife. When thoroughly stirred together, turn the dough on a 
pasteboard and knead it compactly with the knuckles, keeping it round and 
flat, spreading it out gradually, but taking care it does not crack at the 
edges. Then strew dry meal over it, and roll out with a crimpled roller, 
now and then Tubbing the surface with the hand to remove all needless 
meal. When rolled as thin as an old penny piece and quite round — having 



OATMEAL. 443 

the griddle ready heated over the fire — put a knife in the center and divide 
the cake in three parts. Lay them on tlie hot griddle, tlie plain or under 
side down, and, as they begin to cook, move them in succession from a cooler 
spot to a hotter, but not so hot as to scorch. By pressing the nail on the 
surface it will be known if they are done. They will not be doughy when 
done, and must then be taken from the griddle and put on the toaster before 
the fire. Watch that they dry gradually, as at this stage they soon burn. 
When taken from the toaster, stand them carefully on the edge till quite 
oold, else they will sweat and lose the brittleness which is their great 
charm. 

While the lirst set are cooking, mix another half pound of meal in the 
game manner, and as soon as one set is ready to be on the toaster, fill up 
the vacant place on the griddle with another. A half pound of meal should 
make six cakes. 

A thick cake, commonly used by the laborers, is made by putting the 
meal into a bowl, adding cold water until mixed into a compact mass, and 
then kneading into shape wholly by the knuckles. The more dimples from 
the knuckles to hold the butter in, with which it is eaten, the better. 

Oatmeal Bread is seldom used in our country, but is exceedingly nourish- 
ing, and is very soon much relished when, like barley bread, it is eaten warm 
with butter. It is made with warm water and a little salt, much thicker 
than the cakes. In Scotland this bread is called hnvnock. It is "cake" 
only when thin and first baked on a hot griddle till stifT or dry enough to 
stand on the edge, and then toasted before the fire till crisp. The bread or 
cakes can be baked in large quantities and hung up, when tliey will keep 
a long time. 

OATMEAL PUDDING. 

Pour a quart of boiling milk over a pint of oatmeal and cover closely, 
kaving it to soak all night. The next day beat into it two eggs, and add a 
Uttle salt ; butter a bowl that will just hold it, cover tight with a floured 
cloth, and boil an hour and a half. Eat with butter and salt, or, if preferred, 
with butter and syrup. When cold, f/lice what may be left and toast it, to 
be eaten as oat-cake buttered. 



444 SOUPS. 



SOUPS. 

BOUILLON. 

In olden times bouillon meant "beef-tea," used for feeble persons, and 
scarcely known out of the sick-room. But fashion makes strange innova- 
tions. Ere long we may expect to learn that "gruels," "sage-tea," and 
" ginger-tea" are the only suitable drinks or refreshments for lunches, " high 
teas" or kettle-drums, with no spoons from which to sip it, but to be drank 
from the proper kind of bouillon bowls. When this has run its course, 
shall we ha%'e the genteel homeopathic little pills as a "relish" and the high 
dilution tinctures for a beverage? We think even Fashion, all-supreme 
and often supremely ridiculous as she can be, can never so fully subjugate 
her votaries as to bring such luxuries in allopathic form into a prominent 
place in ball-rooms or stylish suppers. That would be the " last straw," and 
downright rebellion would be the result, unless more skillfully disguised than 
the numerous compounds our mothers used to give. 

Sick people may sip bouillon with a spoon, and not boiling hot, when 
hidden from fashionable eyes. But when it becomes one of Fashion's serv- 
ants, no spoons; take it hot, and no wry faces if it scald the mouth. Be 
genteel, whatever sufTering may come with it. 

But perhaps, aftei- all, this last freak of fashion is more sensible than most 
that come before us. Bouillon, when properly prepared, is very palatable, 
and certainly nutritious and harmless. One of the best modes of preparing 
it is as follows : Chop raw, lean beef very fine, and to every pound put a quart 
of cold water. In chopping raw meat it will become matted very closely, 
and, in putting it into the soup-digester with the water, it is best to pull it to 
pieces, separating it as thoroughly as possible, so that the water may pene- 
trate every part without obstruction. This done, cover closely and set 
where it will become barely lukewarm in an hour's time. A ny close-cov- 
ered kettle will do, but the regular soup-digester is, we think, better, because 
the valve at the top is moved by the steam sufficiently to prevent the con- 
tents of the kettle from boiling over, wasting the bouillon and filling the 
house with the smell. 

Increase the heat slowly after the first hour till it begins to simmer, and 
then shortly comes to a gentle boiling. Keep it in that state six hours, 
stirring now and then with a strong wooden spoon, and break up the meat, 
which will be by this time closely packed together. Turn all into an 
earthen pan, if you have one, as tin or iron often gives an unpleasant taste. 
Salt to suit the taste; cover to keep all dust away, and let the liquor cool 



SOUPS. 445 

before removing the meat. Squeeze the meat very hard as you take it from 
the licjuor. It will be utterly tasteless and good for nothing. Skim ofl' all 
the fat from the liquor when perfectly cold. Throw in the shell and white 
of a raw egg, without the yolk, put the liquor over the fire in a clean sauce- 
pan or kettle and bring it quickly to the boiling point. Boil rapidly ten 
minutes. Each qu;irt of water put to the raw beef should have simmered 
down to a pint. Then laying a clean thick cloth, kept for this special pur- 
pose, into a fine sieve or soup strainer, pour the bouillon into it, and let it 
filter through into a large bowl leisurely, without an efibrt to hurry it. By 
no means squeeze the cloth. When all has filtered through, the liquor 
should be a pure, clear amber color, without a particle of sediment. 

Some like to give the bouillon a deeper, richer color, which can be easily 
done by burning a little sugar in a tin-cup on the range. As soon as the 
heat has dissolved the sugar, so that it is one big brown pufl" or bubble, stir 
in three tablespoonfuls of boiling water. A very small quantity will suffice 
to give a ricli tint to the bouillon, so small that the safest way is to drop in 
half a teaspoonful at a time ; stir well, then taste. Be very sure that not 
enough is added to change the flavor or give the least sweetish taste to it. 
If this small quantity does not give the desired color, add a few drops more, 
little by little, tasting each time till it is satisfactory. Having once learned, 
by experimenting, it will be no trouble afterwaad. 

Bouillon for parties, or other entertainments, should be served very hot; 
for family use, or sickness, it can be used hot or cold, as preferred. If the 
quart of water put to each pound is reduced to a pint, it will, when cold, be 
a clear golden or amber-colored jelly. This is excellent for weak, feeble 
people, used ice-cold, or, if better liked, heated to a liquid form again. If 
this rule is strictly followed, success is sure. 

The whole character of the commonest foundation for soup can be 
changed with very little time or trouble, only wanting the skill and knowl- 
edge that come after a few trials. Quenelles or force-meat balls of every 
imaginable kind for soups, "purees" of every description, can be used to 
give flavor to the commonest stock, and thus the smallest scraps and parts 
that seem worthless can, by a little skill, soon learned, a very little time ex- 
pended, make the tables of those who are obliged to practice the strictest 
economy more attractive than those of the rich. 

* LOBSTER SOUP. 

Take the meat from the claws, bodies, and tails of some lobsters — from 
three to six, according to size; remove the brown fin and the bag on the 
head; pound in a mortar the fins, chines and small claws; boil them gently 
in two quarts of water, with an onion, a bundle of sweet herbs, a small piece 
of lemon-peel, a couple of anchovies, boned, and with white pepper and salt 
to taste. When reduced to a pulp, strain. Pound in a mortar the spawn, 



446 • SOUPS. 

with Bome butter, a little flour aud grated nutmeg; and, when quite smooth, 
add a quart of cream ; mix the soup; put in the tails, cut up into pieces, 
and let all just come to the boil, and serve. Fish-balls made with the rem- 
nants of the lobster, and with mace, pepper, salt, a few bread-crumbs, a pinch 
of flour, and an egg or two, according to quantity, may be beaten in the 
eoup and served with it. 

GEAVY SOUP. 

Get an eight-pound shin of beef, break the bones, remove the marrow, 
wash clean and lay it into a stew-pan, covering it with a gallon of cold 
Water. Let it heat slowly, and skim as before directed. When most of the 
scum has been removed, throw in an ounce of salt, a dozen black pepper- 
corns, a bunch of sweet herbs (i. e. a sprig of thyme, marjoram and a bay-leaf), 
two onions sliced and fried brown, two eschalots and three cloves. Simmer 
gently four hours, then take out the meat — which can be used hot or cold, aa 
preferred; strain the soup, and let it stand all night for the fat to rise and 
harden. Before serving, remove every particle of fat, and, if liked, add a 
turnip, a carrot and some celery cut in small pieces, which can simmer in 
the soup till done; or add only a little mushroom catsup, or soy. Cut 
toasted bread in squares and serve with the soup. 

No. 2 Gravy Soup. — Cut in thin slices half a pound of lean ham, three 
pounds of lean beef and three pounds of veal, and lay on the bottom of the 
stew-jjan tirst the ham, then the beef aud last the veal. Break the bonea 
that may have come with the meat and put on top of the meat, with two 
carrots, two turnips, four onions, and cut up one head of celery, a bunch of 
herbs, four cloves and a blade of mace. Pour over all one quart of cold soft 
water, cover the soup-kettle closely and set it over a slow fire where the 
meat will brown. Then turn it, and brown the other side. Be careful that 
it does not scorch. Then add three quarts of boiling water; boil for an hour, 
till all the scum has been taken off, then add two teaspoonfuls of salt, a half 
dozen black pepper-corns, a very small bit of cayenne pepper, and let it 
simmer, bid never boil, four hours, then strain through a tamis or flannel 
strainer into a clean earthen dish, and set in a cool place till all the fat 
hardens on the top and can be removed. If prepared early in the morning, 
it will be ready for a six-o'clock dinner, or it can be set away till the next 
day, which is better. When wanted, pour off carefully, leaving any sedi- 
ment that may remain at the bottom. Set it to heat, and, when just boiling, 
serve in a hot tureen. This soup should be perfectly clear. 

A GOOD FAMILY SOUP. 

Half a pound of lean bacon or ham, two pounds of lean beef, cut in thi» 
slices. Fry them with a few slices of onion and a small cabbage, chopped. 
When a clear brown, put them into the soup-digester or soup-kettle witk 
two pounds of potatoes, three ounces of rice, two carrots, one turnip, sliced. 



SOUPS. 447 

and two teaspoonfuls of salt and one of pepper. Pour over two quarts of 
hot water at first, set the pan over a slow fire, skim carefully, and, when no 
more Rcum rises, add two quarts more of water. When the potatoes are done 
take them out and uiiush them; let the soup simmer three hours after the 
potatoes are removed; then take out the meat and let tlie soup simmer 
unotiier hour, when it should be strained, the meat cut in neat pieces, added, 
and thickened with the potatoes rubbed through a colander. Stir constantly 
after they are added, for fear of scorching, till the whole is hot. Then serve 
with toasted bread cut in dice. 

SOUP MAIGRE. 

This is a meatless soup, for fast-days, made by preparing a bunch of 
celery, a good head of lettuce, if in season, and a handful of parsley, all well 
washed and cut small, and a handful of spinach washed and picked over. 
Set a stew-pan over a slow fire, and put in half a pound of butter — perfectly 
sweet, or the whole will be spoiled. Shake it about until it has all melted 
and has done hissing. Then put in five or six small onions peeled and cut 
quite thin and small, and shake about in the butter, which must not get hot 
enough to scorch. When butter and onions are of a light gold color, add 
the celery, spinach, etc. Stand by and shake all these over the fire for fif- 
teen minutes, until thoroughly mixed and tender, then sift in gradually 
about a tablospoonful and a half of flour. When the flour is well mingled, 
so that there are no lumps, pour in two quarts of boiling water. Throw in 
a handful of hard dry crusts, a teaspoonful of ground black pepper, half of a 
small cayenne pepper, two even spoonfuls of salt. Let it boil gently half 
an hour, being stirred often enough to prevent its sticking at the bottom, 
and, if in season, put in a pint of green pease. At the end of half an hour 
take the kettle off" the fire, and stir in instantly the well-beaten yolks of iwo 
eggs and a tablespoonful of vinegar. Pour all into a hot soup-tureen, and 
serve. 

MACARONI SOUP. 

Take as much good meat stock as will be needed for the quantity of soup 
required. Have ready one turnip peeled and cut in small squares, two 
carrots well scraped and cut in small narrow strips an inch long, two leeka 
shred fine, four onions peeled, two cloves, a blade of mace, a teaspoonful of 
pepper-corns. Bring the stock to boiling, skim off" all the scum, and then 
add these ingredients. Set the saucepan where it will simmer gently two 
and a half hours, occasionally raising the lid to let out a little of the steam. 
While this is cooking, prepare a quarter of a pound of macaroni thus: 
Wash it well in several waters, put it into a saucepan, cover with plenty of 
cold water with a little salt. Let it boil until it is quite tender. Half an 



448 SO UPS. 

hour should cook it soft. When done, strain off the water, pour more cold 
water over it and wash again, lay it on a board and cut in small pieces. 
As soon as the soup is cooked sufficiently, lay the macaroni in a soup-tureen, 
and strain the hot soup over it through a tamis, so that none of the substance 
•of the soup shall come through. 

LOBSTER SOUP. 

If made with care, this is one of the best soups made, and is not at all 
elaborate or difficult to make. Boil four good-sized lobsters. Remove the 
meat from the body, claws and tail, cut it all up small into dice or chop 
very fine, wliichever is most desirable, and set aside ready for use. Bruise 
the shell, small claws and fins in a marble mortar and put them into two 
quarts of fish stock ; add to this the well-toasted crust of a French roll, but 
take care not to scorch it, peel and cut up fine one onion, part of the peel 
of a small lemon, two teaspoonfuls of salt and half a small teaspoon of 
cayenne. Let these simmer nearly an hour. While this is cooking, make 
quenelles, or forcemeat, of the pounded coral of the lobster, part of the meat, 
two tablespoons butter, the same of bread-crumbs, and bind all together 
with a well-beaten egg. Roll this forcemeat into balls the size of a small 
olive, and fry in boiling-hot butter, shaking them all the time while frying 
so they may be equally browned. Put on the bottom of the tureen, and set 
where they will keep hot. When the soup is nearly done, strain through a 
tamis, to clear from all bits of .shells. Put back into the soup-kettle, and 
add all that remains of the meat of the lobster, cut into small pieces. Let 
it boil over a minute, then pour over the forcemeat balls into the tureen, and 
serve hot. 

VEGETABLE SOUP. ' 

Put three pounds beef into three quarts cold water. Set it over the fire. 
Skim off all the scum as fast as it rises. When it has been over half an hour, 
add two-thirds of a tablespoonful of salt. As soon as it begins to boil, add 
half a cup of cold water to stop the boiling for a few minutes, and the scum 
will rise to the surface. This must be skimmed off carefully. When no 
more scum rises, add one small turnip, sliced, one carrot cut in dice, two 
cloves, one small onion, a stalk of celery, and, if the flavor is liked, a leek 
and a clove of garlic. Let it simmer constantly for from six to eight 
minutes, but not boil. Then add a tablespoonful of brown sugar, and serve. 

VEEMICELLI SOUP. 

To make the best vermicelli soup, first prepare a rich stock from a good 
Boup-bone. Cut enough of the meat from the bone to fill a frying-pan half 
full. Fry in butter carefully till of a rich brown. While the meat is frying 



SOUPS. 449 

put the bone into the soup-kettle with four quarts of cold water; then add 
the browned meat and two sliced onions fried, but not scorohed, in butter, 
four cloves, three allspice, teaspoonful of whole black pepper-corns, a small 
chili or a bit of red pepper, half a teaspoonful of celery-seed or some celery 
stalks. Simmer eight hours. Then remove the meat and set the stock away 
to cool. Next morning remove all the fat, pass the soup through a sieve, 
and boil it long enough to reduce it one-third. Full half an hour before 
dinner add two-thirds of a teacupful of vermicelli, and, when quite tender, 
serve. This, without the vermicelli, makes a very nice, clear soup for a 
dinner party, to which add, just before serving, two boiled eggs cut in bits, 
and half a lemon sliced. 

The fat skimmed from the stock and clarified by boiling till all the water 
disappears, is good to use instead of lard, and the meat can be made into 
excellent croquettes. 

SPINACH SOUP. 

Set to boil as much good meat stock as you desire for soup. Have it well 
seasoned, and flavored with such vegetables as you please. Boil the spinach 
and prepare as for the table with butter, pepper and salt; then press through 
the sieve into the boiling stock ; add a gill of cream. Let it boil up a 
moment, then serve. It is improved by dropping into the soup while boiling 
hot, the moment it is poured into the tureen, some raw eggs — one for each 
guest. Let the tureen stand over a kettle of boiling water a minute or two 
and serve. In dishing, if there are eggs for each of the guests, dip out the 
Houp carefully, with one egg in each plate, unbroken. If only three or four 
eggs are used, stir them into the soup while the tureen is over hot water. 

CORNED-BEEF SOUP. 

When the liquor in which the beef and vegetables were boiled is cold',, 
remove all the grease that has risen and hardened on top, and add tomatoes 
and tomato ketchup and boil half an hour — thus making an excellent toma- 
to soup; or add to it rice, or sage, or pearl barley, or turn it into a vegetable 
soup by boiling in the liquor any vegetables that are fancied. Several 
varieties of soups may have this " stock" for a basis, and be agreeable and 
nutritious. 

BEAN SOUP. 

To one quart of black or turtle beans, one and a half gallons of water - 

boil steadily until the beans are perfectly soft, then mash them in the liquor 

until smooth ; strain them through a colander, and return the liquor to the 

pot. A pint of stock, made from the bones of cold roasts, improves the flavor 

at this soup; but if this is not at hand, add a lump of butter the size of an 
29 



450 SOUPS. 

«gg, rolled smooth in a little flour. Season with cayenne pepper, salt, pow- 
dered mace and cloves to taste. Just before serving add cooking wine to 
taste, the yolks of hard-boiled eggs, and a lemon, sliced ; if the liquor boils 
away, add boiling water in time for it to unite with the soup before serving. 
This soup needs four hours to make. 

GREEN-PEA SOUP. 

Four pounds beef, cut into small pieces; half-peck of green pease, one 
gallon of water. Boil the empty pods of the pease in the water, one hour, 
before putting in the beef. Strain them out, add the beef and boil slowly 
for an hour and a half longer. Half an hour before serving, add the shelled 
pease; twenty minutes after, half-cup of rice-flour, with salt and pepper. 
After adding the flour, stir frequently to prevent scorching. Strain into a 
hot tureen. 

GUMBO SOUP. 

Take one onion, a small piece of ham; fry out in the pot the soup is to be 
made in. Cut up one chicken, leaving the breast whole. Add one table- 
spoon of rice. An hour before it is done, add a pint-bowl of okra, sliced, the 
same quantity of sliced tomatoes, a salt-spoon of red pepper. Cut the breast 
of the chicken in small pieces and leave in the soup. 

ECONOMICAL SOUP. 

Put all the bits and bones left over from a roast, add any bits left over 
from steak or mutton-chops, into a soup-kettle; cut up one carrot into small, 
neat bits or dice; one sweet-potato cut in thin slices; a small bunch of sweet 
herbs, if agreeable ; a tea-cup of finely-shred cabbage, and one onion finely 
minced. Boil slowly two hours ; then add a pint of green corn, half a dozen 
fresh tomatoes, and boil half an hour longer. Then strain all through a 
sieve, and return to the fire; let it boil up once, and serve hot. 

HARVEST SOUP. 
Cut in small pieces one pound of good beef; cover with cold water, and 
boil gently for three hours ; let it stand over night ; remove all the fat ; bring 
to a boil, and add one can of lobster, cut fine. Prepare one cauliflower, 
sliced ; cut the corn from one dozen ears; break in small pieces one quart of 
butter-beans ; slice one onion ; cut fine three or four radishes, and add all to 
the soup, with one whole green bell-pepper, one-half teaspoonful of black 
pepper, one teaspoonful of salt. In one hour add one quart of tomatoes, 
sliced. When tender, carefully remove, without breaking, on a skimmer, 
the bell-pepper. Simmer the rest four hours longer. Add no more water 
before the tomatoes are put in than necessary to kce[i from burning; after 



SOUPS. 451 

they are in, none will be needed. Half the above quantities can be used. 
Some like potato with the othes vegetableH. Add salt to taste before dishing. 
A little rice can be used, if liked, in the soup. 

sheep's-head soup. 

Clean the sheep's-head very carefully after the skin has been removed, and 
put it into four quarts of boiling water. Let it boil .slowly till reduced one- 
half, then add one teacup of well-washed pearl barley, six onions cut up very 
line, one carrot and one turnip, also cut fine, a few cloves, a small bunch of 
sweet herbs, salt, pepper, and any kind of catsup to suit the taste. After 
these are all added, let it cook one hour ; then take out the head, strain off 
the soup through a coarse sieve, to get free from all the vegetable substances, 
cut up the head into small pieces and \Mit it to the soup, and set it again 
•over the fire. Taste it, to learn if more .seasoning is necessary. As soon ii« 
it boils up, send to the table. 

MACARONI SOUP. 

Make a rich beef stock, flavored highly in any way you may choose. Par- 
boil as much macaroni as you wish to use in boiling salted water; when it 
is quite tender (it will take about twenty minutes), cut it into small pieces 
several inches in length, throw them into the boiling soup, and let them boil 
with it a few minutes before serving it. Hand grated Parmesan cheese on a 
plate by itself. 

CANNED-TURTLE SOUP. 

The canned turtle comes in a jelly, and only needs to be stewed in some 
stock, just enough to thin the jelly sufficiently. Use fish or vegetable stock. 
It is better for this purpose than meat stock; add a few truffles and a larger 
proportion of curry-powder than for fresh turtle, three or four small green 
■onions, a sprig of basil, cayenne pepper, black pepper and salt to suit the 
taste; butter, flour, and lemon juice according to the quantity. Prepare 
some " little eggs " by taking yolks of three hard-boiled eggs, and one un- 
booked egg. Kub them together till smooth, roll into small balls, and throw 
into the soup when it just begins to boil. The turtle needs cooking but a 
short time, and the onions and herbs should therefore be put to the stock and 
boiled till tender, then add the turtle and the little eggs. Let them boil a few 
minutes together, and serve hot. 

PEANUT SOUP. 

To make this dish, shell three pounds of roasted nuts, rub off the dry, brown 
skin carefully, pound the nuts to a smooth paste in a mortar, gradually add- 
ing a tablespoonful of brandy to prevent oiling; put this paste into a eanoe- 



452 SOUPS. 

pan, set it over th« fire, and gradually stir into it two quarts of boiling- 
water; season it palatabiy with salt and cayenne pepper; let it simmer 
gently until it thickens, stirring it occasionally to prevent burning, and then 
serve it hot. 

PEANUT SOUP WITH OYSTERS. 

Prepare three pounds of nuts as directed in the preceding receipt; mix 
with them two tablespoonfuls of flour, smoothly blended with a half-pint of 
cold water; place this mixture in a sauce-pan over the fire, gradually stir 
into it a pint and a half of boiling water, or milk and water, add a small red 
pepper and a palatable seasoning of salt, and boil for fifteen minutes, taking 
care that the soup does not burn ; then put in one pint of oysters from which 
all bits of shell have been carefully removed; let the soup boil once, and 
serve it immediately. 

We have eaten both these soups at the South, and find them quite nice. 

CARROT SOUP. 

Take six or eight large carrots, scrape them well, cut oft' the tops a quarter 
of an inch down, throw the carrots into a sauce-pan of boiling water, with 
plenty of salt, one large onion, and let them boil until perfectly tender; take 
a lump of butter (a quarter of a pound, if you do not consider it too ex- 
travagant), place it in the tureen, and let it partially melt (we take it for 
granted that the tureen is properly warmed) ; sprinkle a little pepper and 
allspice on it, then strain your carrots, liquor and all, into the tureen; rub 
every particle of the carrots through the strainer, and stir in the tureen until 
all the butter is melted; serve very hot with toasted bread. 

SUMMER SOUPS. 

A most delicious pea soup is made as follows : 

Put half a pound of butter into a soup-kettle, over the fire, and add to it a 
quart of green pease. Shake them round constantly for fifteen minutes, to 
prevent their browning. Then take out half the pease, and set aside, then 
pour in two quarts of vegetable stock, or some prefer boiling water. Cut fine 
about a pint of spinach, a half-dozen green onions, a little mint, if agreeable, 
and a head of celery. Set the kettle where this will stew slowly two hours, 
till all the materials are reduced to jelly, then add the pint of pease reserved, 
three tablespoonfuls of sweet butter rolled in flour, two teaspoonfuls of salt 
and one of black pepper. Let it just boil up', then pour into a hot soup 
tureen, and serve immediately. 

Julienne Potage or soup for June and July, from which it takes its name, 
because it should have a good proportion of all summer vegetables, is made 
«a follows : 



.S0L7W. 453 

Tiike equal parts of carrots, turnipH, celery, onions, cabbage, lettuce, leek — 
in all three quarters of a pound — with a little sorrel and cKervil. Cut the 
red part of the carrots in long strips, then across like dice; cut the turnips 
and celery in the same manner, fry them in two ounces of butter to a delicate 
brown. (Wlien frying vegetables for soups, do it in a long-handled stew-pan, 
so that they can be easily sliaken to keep from scorching.) When hot, add 
to them two leeks cut in small pieces, the sorrel^ and a little chervil, with a 
dessertspoonful of sugar. When the vegetable or julienne is nearly tender, 
pour in two quarts of good clear stock, turn all into the soup-digester, or 
kettle, which should be well-heated, then boil one hour, when it should be 
set one side to simmer and allow the scum to rise, which must be carefully 
taken off. W^hile tliis is doing, prepare separately two spoonfuls of green 
pease, and the same of asparagus heads. Put them into the soup-tureen, well 
heated, and when the soup is done pour over them and serve. If preferred, 
the pease and asparagus can be omitted. 

Or, cut up, after being well cleaned, three carrots, three turnips, two large 
sticks of celery, three onions, three leeks; fry ten minutes in two ounces of 
«weet butter, over a slow fire, shaking the pan constantly to prevent scorch- 
ing. Then pour them into the hot soup-digester, in whiph are three quarts 
•of strong stock, and simmer half an hour. Then cut up two heads of lettuce, 
a leaf or two of sorrel and of chervil, with a cup of French beans cut in 
dice, add a tablespoonful of salt, half teaspoonful cayenne and half table- 
spoonful of sugar. Let it all simmer gently till the vegetables are very 
tender. Half an hour should be long enough. Serve with bread fried in 
small dice-shaped bits. 

A household root-cutter or rasp is a great convenience for many kinds of 
cooking, but especially for making julienne soup, as it is important that the 
vegetables for this soup should be quickly cut, and neatly, or the soup will 
suffer in taste as well as looks, and this root-cutter will cut them all quickly 
and in exact form. 



MOCK-TURTLE SOUP. 

To make mock-turtle soup, the preliminary steps should begin the day 
before it is needed; because the common stock, which all good housekeepers 
keep on hand, is not suitable. 

Put to a gallon of cold water four pounds of the fleshy part of a shin or 
neck of beef, add three medium-sized carrots, one onion, one head of celery, 
a small bunch of savory herbs, a small blade of mace, half a teaspoonful of 
peppercorns and two tablespoonfuls of salt. When the meat is cooked quite 
into fragments, strain off this broth, and when cold pour it on to three 
pounds of the knuckle or neck of veal. Simmer this gently until the meat 
falls off the bones. Be very careful that it only .simmers gently, or the broth 



454 SOUPS. 

or stock will be so reduced that it will not be sufficient for the soup. Strain 
the soup or stock, through a hair-sieve, into a clean earthen dish. Leave 
it in the sieve over the the dish to drain closely off from the meat. 

Next take half of a nice calf's-head, with the skin on ; the skin being the 
most gelatinous part; remove ihe brains, and then bone it entirely, or let the 
butcher do this for you. When the stock is cold, take off all the fat from it. 
Eoll up the head lightly (leaving the tongue in or not as is most convenient), 
and tie it together with tape, then put it into the soup or stock, bring it to a 
gentle boiling heat over a moderate fire. Simmer for an hour and a quarter^ 
keeping it closely skimmed. Then lift the head into a deep earthen bowl, 
and pour the soup to it. Let it remain together till nearly cold, to prevent 
the edges of the meat becoming dark. 

Take two ounces of the lean part of raw ham ; remove every particle of 
fat, rind or any part that will taste of the smoke ; peel and slice .one mild 
onion or four moderate-sized eschalots; dissolve in a clean iron sauce-pan 
eight tablespoonfuls of butter, which is equal to four ounces; put to this 
butter when hot the ham, onions, half a dozen cloves, two small blades of 
mace, half a teaspoonful of peppercorns, three small sprigs of thyme, and 
one of winter savory, and, if that flavor is relished, the thin rind of half 
a lemon. 

Stew all these articles as gently as possible, keeping them just simmering- 
for one hour, shaking the pan frequently. Then sprinkle over all, by de- 
grees, two ounces of fine dry flour; then, by shaking the pan, mix the whole 
well together, and after simmering gently a few minutes longer, add very 
gradually five pints of the stock, free from all fat or sediment, and made 
boiling hot before adding it. Shake the pan rouud earnestly as the first por- 
tion of the stock is added, and continue to do it until about three pints have 
been added, when the remainder of the soup may be poured in at once, well 
stirred, and then the pan should be placed one side on the range, where it 
will simmer as gently as possible one hour. 

At the end of the hour turn the whole into a haii'-sieve jjlaced over a 
large bowl or pan. If the liquid will not pass through easily, do not force it 
through with a spoon, as that will spoil the appearance of the soup, but 
knock on the sides of the sieve, which will hurry it somewhat. 

Meanwhile, when the soup is draining, cut up the meat from the head to 
have it ready to add to it — for the finest kind of mock-turtle soup only the 
skin with the fat that adheres to it— and this, with the tongue, should be cut 
into little squares or strips of an inch in width. For ordinary occasions the 
lean part of the meat may be added also; but as this is sooner done than 
the skin, it is better to put it to the soup half an hour later. When the 
tongue and skin are ready, put them to the strained stock, and put all 
together into a clean pan, and simmer one hour till perfectly tender; but it 
must not be allowed to break. A little cayenne improves it for most, and 



SOUPS. 455 

should be put into the stock before it is strained. Use salt sparingly be- 
cause of the ham, until every thing has been thoroughly mixed; then taste, 
and use as much as will be desired. 

A couple of glasses of sherry or Madeira are thought by most to be indis- 
pensable, with a dessertspoonful of lemon-juice to be added a few minutes 
before serving; but by adding three tomatoes while preparing the stock 
and a tablespoonful of tomato catsup, then just before serving add a dessert- 
spoonful of lemon-juice and two glasses of orange-juice, we think we can 
make a soup that will be better relished than by using wine. 

There are several ways of making what is called mock-turtle soup, but 
this is the real article, and not half the trouble the necessarily long direc- 
tions would indicate. 

POTATO SOUP. 

Chop six large potatoes fine and put into a gallon of water; add one tea- 
cup of rice. Let it boil till the rice is tender, then add a piece of butter the 
size of an egg. Work one tablespoonful of flour to a paste with the butter, 
and stir into the soup, and add one teacup of sweet cream just before taking 
from the fire. One hour will make the soup. 

O) — ^ Pare and chop fine six good-sized potatoes; put them into a soup- 
"digester" or kettle with three pints of water; boil until just tender, not 
soft ; season with pepper and salt. Just before ready to serve, break into the 
soup three or four raw eggs, and stir briskly to break the eggs before they 
are cooked. Serve hot and immediately after the eggs are well stirred in. 

SWISS POTATO SOUP. 

Pare and slice six large potatoes and three small turnips. Put them to 
five pints of water. Boil five or six hours, until perfectly dissolved and of 
the consistency of pea-soup. If it boils away too fast, fill up with boiling 
water. When thick enough, add butter, pepper and salt. A small bit of salt 
pork, or a bone or bit of lamb or veal and a small onion may be added to 
vary the soup, if desired. 

TOMATO SOUP. 

Make one gallon of stock from nice fresh beef. When cold, skim and 
strain. Take off the skin from three quarts of fresh tomatoes, cut out all 
the hard core or center, rub through a sieve, and put to this stock and set to 
boil. As soon as it boils make a paste of butter and flour, rubbed together, 
making in all a half-teacupful. When the stock boils, stir in this paste 
gradually. Be careful that it docs not lump. Boil twenty minutes. Season 
with salt and pepper to suit the taste. 

Canned tomatoes answer when there are no fresh to be had. 



456 SOUPS. 

Another, without meat. — One quart peeled tomatoes to one quart of boiling 
■water. Stew till soft, then add a teaspoonful of soda. When it ceases to 
effervesce, add one quart of boiling milk, a little rolled cracker, salt, butter 
and pepper to taste. Boil a few minutes longer, then serve. A spoonful of 
sugar is considered by some a great improvement. 



A CLEAR SOUP, 

Take two quarts of the best "stock" (that which is made from beef-bones 
is the best). It should have been boiled the day before it is wanted, so as to 
have all the fat perfectly cold. Eemove every particle of this fat and strain 
the stock through a flannel or linen strainer, and repeat it till the stock runs 
bright and clear. If the straining does not quite clear it, clarify it ; mix one 
egg and the shell in a gill of cold water, then add a gill of the boiling soup 
and stir it quickly into the boiling soup. Then set the soup-kettle back on 
the range, when it will stop boiling, until the egg and shell have gathered 
all the small particles that cloud the soup. Then strain it once more, season 
with salt and pepper, added gradually, tasting the soup as the seasoning is 
added, to be sure there is not too little or too much. Color to a clear amber 
color with a scant teaspoonful of caramel. 

Caramfel is made by melting half a pound of sugar, gradually, in a thick 
copper vessel, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon. When dissolved, 
boil slowly until it is of a rich color, but do not let it burn. When brown 
enough, add one quart of cold water, stir well and boil gently at the side of 
the stove twenty minutes ; then cool, strain and bottle tight. In using 
" caramel," add just as about to take up the soup. 

Poached eggs are often added for clear soup or consomme. Break very 
fresh eggs into a deep sauce-pan half full of boiling water ; put to the hot 
water one teaspoonful of salt and half a gill of vinegar. Cover the sauce-pan 
tight, and set on the back of the stove till the whites of the eggs are firm. 
Then lift them out one by one on a skimmer, trim off all rough edges neatly 
to an oval shape ; then slip them ofT the skimmer into a bowl of hot but not 
boiling water ; let them stand ten minutes, and put them to the soup when 
just ready to serve. The eggs ar-e a great improvement. 

Two quarts of water will make enough soup for eight persons. 

OX-TAIL SOUP. 

Take two tails, wash and put into a kettle with about one gallon of cold 
water and a little salt. Skim off the broth. When the meat is well cooked, 
take out the bones and add a little onion, carrot and tomatoes*. It is better 
made the day before using, so that the fat can be taken from the top. Add 
vegetables next day, and boil an hour and a half longer. 



SOUPS. 457 

CKEAM OF RICE SOUP. 

Two quarts of chicken stock (the water in which fowls have been boiled 
"will answer), one teacupfiil of rice, a quart of cream or milk, a small onion, 
a stalk of celery; salt and pepper to taste. Wash the rice carefully, and add 
to tlie chicken stock, onions and celery. Cook slowly two hours, put through 
a sieve; add seasoning. The milk or cream, which has been allowed to come 
just to a boil in a separate sauce-pan, is to be added the last thing. If milk 
is used, add a tablespoonful of butter. 

OYSTER SOUP. 

Strain the liquor from two (piarts of oysters, put the liquor on the back of 
the stove in a farina kettle. Then pick over the oysters carefully, removing 
every particle of shell, and, if possible, do this without washing them, as 
washing takes out much of the best flavor. Heat three pints of rich milk, 
or, if you have it, half that quantity of milk, the other half rich cream ; season 
with salt, pepper and, if liked, a little mace. Eub together three ounces of 
butter with an ounce and a half of flour, corn-starch or farina. Stir this 
into the milk when scalding hot, and as soon as it begins to thicken add the 
liquor from the oysters, which must not boil — only have it hot. Stir well, 
and add the drained oysters. As soon as they puff" out and the edges are 
*' curled" or "ruffled" they are done. We think farina mucli nicer for 
thickening any soup than flour or Indian meal ; cracker crumbs rolled fine 
the next best. 

Many receipts advise washing the oysters to remove the small bits of shell, 
but with care they can be picked off". We think no water should be used to 
wash them, or added for increasing the quantity of soup, but that milk or 
cream is much better, giving the rich flavor of the oyster moi-e perfectly. 

LOBSTER OR CRAB SOUP. 

Boil eight crabs, or two not quite medium size lobsters. Pick out the meat 
and chop fine. Pound the shells and small claws in a mortar, and boil them 
two hours in two quarts of the water they were boiled in. Just before they 
are boiled enough, prepare what else is needed ; chop the meat ; fry one 
small onion in a tablespoonful of butter; when delicately broAvned, put to 
it the crab or lobster meat and let it warm up a minute or two, not more; 
then sift over it one tablespoonful of flour and some pepper. Stir well ; then 
add the water in which the shells have been boiling— straining it free from 
all pieces — and one teaspoonful of minced parsley. If the water has boiled 
down to less than three pints, add more of the water in which the lobsters 
were first boiled ; there will probably be plenty left over. When thus pre- 
pared, put it over the fire and boil one hour, then add a pint of boiling milk; 
let it boil up once, and serve hot. 



458 FISH. 



FISH. 

FISH CHOWDEK. 

Put into the pot in which the chowder is to be made a few thin slices 
of nice, sweet salt pork. Let them fry on the bottom of the pot till brown, 
then put on a layer of fish (cod or haddock is the best), then a layer of 
sliced potatoes and onions, another of fish followed by one of potatoes, 
until there is as much as will be required. Use the onions in such pro- 
portions as will best suit the taste of all. Sprinkle over salt and pepper 
or boil a red pepper; but remember that the salt pork will be almost 
enough salt for seasoning the whole. When all ready, pour water enough 
to cover the whole, and let it boil twenty minutes. Just before taking up, 
wet a tablespoonful of flour in some milk — or more, according to the 
quantity of fish — and pour in to thicken the chowder a littlie. Put pilot 
bread, or slices of bread, or crackers, round the bottom and sides of the 
tureen, then dish and serve hot. Clam chowder may be made from this 
receipt. 

BOILED HALIBUT. 
The tail is generally thought the best for boiling. It certainly can be 
used that way to the best advantage. Next to that a thick solid piece is 
the best. Flour a fish cloth (such cloth should never be used for any other 
purpose), wrap the fish in it and pin the cloth round neatly. Put it into 
cold water, well salted ; let it come slowly to a gentle boil. After the water 
boils, let the fish cook a half hour longer. Serve with drawn butter or egg- 
sauce. Slice two or three hard-boiled eggs and lay over the fish ; and pour 
a little of the sauce over it also. 

DRAWN BUTTER FOR FISH. 

Beat together one small cup of butter and half a tablespooiiful of flour 
until very smooth. Pour over this one gill of boiling water, stirring it 
quickly. When smooth set the sauce-pan over the fire and let it boil once. 
If liked, tie up four sprigs of parsley, put them for a moment into boiling 
water, then take out, cut up very fine and stir into the batter. Sprigs of 
parsley laid round the dish, when sent to the table, are the usual garnishing. 
Egg-sauce for boiled fish, is made by pouring drawn butter, made like the 
above, over two or three hard-boiled eggs chopped very fine. Some like a 
little Heading or Worcestershire sauce put into egg-sauce. 



FISH. 459 

COD-FISH vvrni egg-sauce. 

Boil three or four eggs, quiie hard, chop line, rub half a tablespoonful of 
tlour into three tablespoonfuls of butter, beat in the chopped egg, pour over 
ihLs some of the water in which the fish was boiled — about two teacupfuLs — 
add to this enough cream or milk to make what sauce will be needed. Boil 
it all up once, season with pepper and salt and pour over the fish; or chop 
the hard-boiled eggs fine, put two spoonfuls and a half of butter over the 
fire, when melted add a tablespoonful of lemon-juice, stir in the chopped egg, 
and then pour this over the fish. 

Fresh fish should always be put into cold water and set over the fire. 
When it begins to boil, let it cook three minutes to every two pounds of fish, 
or a six-pound fish nine minutes. 

FISH FRITTERS. 

Remove all the bones from the cold fish. Pound the fish in a marble 
mortar, add equal proportions of bread-crumbs and mashed potatoes, stir in 
half a tea-cup of cream, two well-beaten eggs, some cayenne pepper and 
anchovy sauce, if liked. Beat all together thoroughly, cut into small cakes 
and fry in boiling lard. 

TO COOK TROUT. 

After dressing the trout, split down the liack, wash and wipe dry. Have 
the gridiron hot and buttered. Don't have the stove filled too full of coal, 
or the fish will scorch; but have a clear, bright fire. Lay the trout on the 
broiler, skin down. When it begins to turn a clear brown, turn the gridiron 
over, and broil the other side of the trout delicately. iButter and season 
with pepper and salt, and serve on a bed of watercresses, garnished with thin 
slices of lemon. Some serve with maitre d'hotel sauce. 

TO PICKLE FISH. 

When the fish (shad, salmon or haddock are the best) has been well 
cleaned and dried, cut up into pieces of the most convenient size for packing 
in the jar. Use a stone jar large enough to hold the fish when cut up. Rub 
each piece with a little more salt than you would use if cooking it; cover 
the bottom of the pot with the fish, then strew over it a few whole black 
peppers, and two or three allspice, and a small piece of mace — if liked, a 
very little piece of cinnamon — and one clove. Proceed in this way until the 
jar is nearly filled, then pour over the whole good cider vinegar — but not 
too strong. (When vinegar is well made, and old, it becomes so strong as to 
eat or spoil any thing on which it is used, and should be diluted with water, 
but must stand a few days after the water is added before using. Add the 
water to only as much as will be soon used.) 



460 FISH. 

"When the fish is covered with the vinegar, tie a paper over the mouth of 
the jar, and then cover this with flour-paste to keep in all the steam. Put 
the jar in the oven and bake three hours. The fish is ready for use Avhen 
cold, as needed. It will keep in the pickle, in a cool, dry place, six months. 

SALMON STEAKS OR CUTLETS. 

Cut the slices from the middle of the fish an inch thick, put one table- 
spoonful of butter into the frying-pan for each slice or steak. Beat up two 
eggs very light; have cracker dust, or crackers finely rolled, in a separate 
plate, into which shake a little cayenne pepper, sift it and the cracker 
dust together, so that the pepper will be evenly distributed. Wipe the fish 
very dry, and sprinkle with a little salt. Dip first in the egg all over, then 
in the cracker-crumbs, and fry very quickly. Drain off" all the grease from 
each steak when done, and put on a hot platter, lined with hot, clean paper, 
prettily fringed and curled at the ends. Lay green sprigs of parsley neatly 
over it, and serve immediately. 

The French use the best salad-oil, in cooking salmon, instead of butter. 

FISH BALLS. 
Any fish can be picked up free from bones that has been left over from 
dinner, either fresh or salt, boiled or baked. For fresh fish use equal parts 
of potatoes, season, moisten with a little of the gravy left over, make into 
neat round balls, and fry in boiling lard, or clarified dripping, in the same 
manner and with the same care you would use in frying doughnuts. If salt 
fish, prepare in the same way, only use two-thirds potatoes. Desiccated 
codfish found great favor until it was spoiled by mixing all refuse fish to- 
gether; but shredded codfish, a new and entirely different article, after a 
fair trial and getting friends to try it in their families, we are prepared to 
pronounce perfect. The shredded fish is made from the very best George's 
Bank codfish, and is shredded by the only process that does not destroy the 
fiber or affect the flavor, and in its preparation gives none of the disagree- 
able odor in cooking usually so troublesome. One pound of this shredded 
codfish is more than equal to two pounds of fish not prepared by this pro- 
cess; and can be ready for the table in fifteen minutes. We copy the direc- 
tions. For fish cakes : Wash in cold water (never in hot water) just to 
remove the salt, strain through a coarse cloth, to free from the water, add 
potatoes to suit the taste, and fry in butter or in a kettle of lard as yon 
would crullers. 

CREAM FISH. 

Prepare as above, then to one cup of fish add two cups of milk, one ounce 
of butter. Boil one minute, then add one egg and a half-teaspoonfuJ of 



FISH. 461 

corn-star(4i rubbed smooth in milk. Serve hot. Served on toast it is an ex- 
cellent breakfast dish. If cream is plenty, use cream instead of milk, and 
less butter. We have tried this faithfully, and are confident it is worthy of 
all praise. 

BOILED FRESH COD. 

Clean a medium-sized fresh cod carefully; wash in clear cold water thor- 
oughly, wipe dry and pin up in a napkin, unless it is cooked in a fish-kettle 
with a drainer. In that case it needs no cloth. Cover either with cold 
water or boiling hot water. If in cold water, a good-sized cod will not need 
more than twelve or fifteen minutes' cooking after the water begins to boil. 
If put into boiling, it will need from twenty-five to thirty minutes. We like 
the flavor better when put into boiling water. Put salt and grated horse- 
radish in the water in which it is cooked. When done, lay a folded napkin 
on the fish-platter, lift the fish from the strainer carefully, and lay on the 
napkin. Serve with drawn butter and oysters or nice egg-sauce. 

What is left over of boiled cod is nice picked up neatly and warmed up 
with drawn butter and oysters or egg-sauce. If any is left over, use that as 
far as it will go. Add pepper and salt if needed. Warm thoroughly; stir 
constantly to prevent burning; then make into balls and brown in the oven. 

All cloths or napkins used about fish should be carefully cleaned and put 
aside, never to be used for any thing else. 

TO WAEM UP COLD FISH. 

Beat up one egg with one teaspoonful of drawn butter. Mince the fish 
fine and season to taste. If there is any roe of shad or cod, well boiled, 
work it up with one tablespoonful of butter and yolks of three hard-boiled 
eggs. Cut the whites of the eggs in thin rings. Put a layer of finely mashed 
potatoes at the bottom of a buttered deep dish, then alternate some of the 
minced fish with some of the drawn butter, lay in a few of the rings of the 
whites of eggs, and the roe, then a thin layer of the mashed potatoes, another 
layer of fish, roe, drawn butter, etc.; pepper, salt and minced parsley strewn 
over each layer. Cover the top, when all is put in, with mashed potatoes, 
and lay a plate over all. Set it into the oven till thorouglily heated through, 
but do not keep it any longer. Take off the plate, brown a few moments, and 
send to the table hot. 

COD-FISH ON TOASTi 

Take a pint of shredded cod-fish that has been soaked in cold water long 
enough to freshen; drain, put into a skillet with a little cold milk, season 
with butter and pepper, mix a spoonful of flour smooth in a little milk; add, 
boil up and turn on to buttered toast on a platter. 



462 I OYSTEBS. 



BAKED COD-FISn. 



Baked cod-fish is an excellent breakfast dish. Cut the fish in small pieces 
and let it soak all night in cold water; in the morning pick it in shreds, and 
let it simmer on the stove until it is tender, then draw ofi" the water, and to 
one-third mashed potato put two-thirds fish; stir it so that the potato will 
be evenly distributed. Bake until it is a rich brown on the top; serve with 
a sauce of drawn butter, in which cut two hard-boiled eggs. 

MATELOTE OF COD-FISH, OR COD-FISH STEW. 

Cut off the head of a cod-fish weighing five pounds. Remove bones from 
the fish, and fill it with a dressing made of half a pint of oysters, a scant 
pint of bread-crumbs, a fourth of a teaspoonful of pepper, two teaspoonfuls 
of salt, two tablespoonfuls of butter, half an onion, an egg and half a table- 
spoonful of chopped parsley. Place five slices of pork, both under and over 
the fish. Boil the bones in a pint of water, and pour this around the fish. 
Bake an hour, and baste often with gravy and butter. Have a bouquet of 
herbs in the corner of the baking-pan. Make a gravy and pour around the 
fish. Then garnish Avith fried smelts. 



OYSTERS. 

The great improvement in the facilities of passing from one State to an- 
other, aside from the great increase of traveling and the ease and comfort 
which it brings the traveler, has also enabled us to enjoy the fruits and vege- 
tables and many other luxuries that not very many years since were only 
known to those whose buiness took them by slow processes from one part of 
the world to another. The tedious sailing-vessels gave infrequent communi- 
cation with countries across the ocean; and in our own country all journey- 
ing was done on horseback, in private carriages, in the stage, or, latterly, by 
canals. Then most people read of tlie many luxuries and beauties of other 
lands, and exceedingly desired to see them and enjoy, but died without the 
sight. 

Now, almost any choice flpwer or fruit that can be found in the world can 
be brought by our improved modes of transportation to us all. Even some 
who can not yet be called middle-aged, will easily recall the time when 
oranges, pineapples and many other fruits were seldom seen. Now they are 
almost as plentiful as our native apples; and with the great demand for such 
luxuries the supplies are rapidly increasing, because the facilities of disposing 



OYSTEES. 463 

of them and transporting them in good condition to all parts of the 
country, or the world, give encouragement to the producer, and largely in- 
crease the energy and industry of those who are to profit by the demand. 

In no one thing, as we now recall it, has the change been so marvelous as 
in the plentiful supply of oysters. When, over forty years since, we. first 
went West to live, once in many months, at some great occasion, pickled 
oysters were very sparingly served ; but it never entered the imagination of 
those, rich enough to gratify every taste or whim, that oysters in the shell 
could ever be brought to their homes. But those who sell them, are learning 
better methods of keeping them for a longer time, and our railroads that 
honeycomb almost every section of our land, connecting rapidly and making 
no tarry, have brought us all, as it were, into one household; and the oyster 
taken from its bed one day may the next be hundreds of miles away, to com- 
fort the invalid or rejoice the heart of the epicure. 

In no part of the world can there be found such fine varieties of thia 
choicest of all shell-fish as in the United States. In the East River, at Blue 
Point, all along the coasts of the Chesapeake and Delaware, they are found 
of the finest flavor and exceedingly large. 

Like every luxury, they are often spoiled by imperfect cooking. In no 
way can their best flavor be enjoyed so well as by eating them from the 
shell, raw. They should first be kept some time in a very cool place, and 
then eaten as soon as the shell is opened. A few days since we saw a pretty 
and novel way of serving them so as to be qviite ornamental. A block of 
ice, large enough to fill a No. 1 platter or ice-cream dish, should be put on 
the dish, with a folded napkin under it. Before puttyig on the platter, a 
large, well-shaped excavation must be made in the block of ice by a hot iron, 
leaving a rim or band of solid ice two inches thick all around the block. 
Then, just on the instant needed, large fine oysters are to be opened by an 
expert, so as to have each oyster in good unbroken shape, and laid in the 
excavation on the ice-block, with pepper and salt sprinkled over them spar- 
ingly. A handsome wreath of myrtle and delicate flowers is to be placed all 
around this block of crystal, and bits of lemon, cut in fanciful patterns, 
placed about. Nothing could be prettier than this dish, and one is sure of 
the oysters being fresh and cold. 

PICICLED OYSTERS. 

Select one hundred large oysters, strain them and see that none of the shell 
adheres, and put oysters and liquor into a porcelain kettle ; add salt, if neces- 
sary. Heat very slowly till the oysters are scalding hot, but do not bring 
them to the boiling point. Then take them up carefully with a clean, per- 
forated skimmer, and put them away to cool. Add to the liquor that 
remains in the kettle one pint of white-wine vinegar, one dozen small blades 
of mace, two dozen whole cloves, two dozen whole black peppers, and one 



464 OYSTERS. 

large red pepper broken up in fine bits. Let this boil up for a minute, when 
the oysters that have been set aside are almost cool, then pour it over them 
while scalding hot. Cover closely the jar in which they are, and put into a 
cool place. The next day pour them in glass jars, with good tight tops closely 
screwed on. Keep in a cool, dark place. Small pint jars are the best, as, 
when opened, the oysters should be used at once. They will keep two months 
with ease. 

It is very little trouble for every housekeeper to put np all the pickled 
oysters needed for her family ; and, by so doing, she is sure of the purity of 
the materials used, besides saving nearly half the price of those she buys. 
Most of the vinegar used by those who pickle to sell is adulterated and very 
unwholesome. Try a little of the liquor from pickled oysters which you buy, 
by dropping it upon a brass or bell-metal kettle ; and if sulphuric or 
pyroligneous acid has been put in the vinegar, the metal will instantly turn 
a bright green. 

FEIED OYSTERS. 

Wipe perfectly dry, dip in well-beaten yolk of agg, then roll in cracker- 
dust, or cracker rolled fine and sifted ; fry in boiling lard. When done, 
drain dry, and lay on paper in a sieve to absorb all the grease. Serve hot, 
seasoned with pepper and salt. If the oysters are large, a second applica- 
tion of egg and cracker-dust improves them, and some use one-third butter 
and two-thirds lard for frying. Large oysters are very good fried carefully 
a delicate brown, without dipping them in either cracker-dust or batter. 

If the oysters are very small, pour them and a part of the liquor into a 
pan of crackers rolled fine. Let them stand a few minutes, add a little salt 
and pepper, and mold them into little cakes, two or three small oysters in 
each cake; roll in dry cracker-dust till well incrusted, and fry a clear, deli- 
cate brown in hot butter and lard or beef-dripping. 

Oysters fried plain — that is, without cracker-crumbs or batter — are nice 
served on toast and enough boiling hot cream poured over to cover them or 
to soak the toast. Half a tablespoonful of flour wet to a paste in cold water 
and put to the cream with two teaspoonfuls of butter just as it begins to 
boil, and a well-beaten egg added before pouring over tlie oysters, is a great 
improvement to oysters cooked in this way. Cold-slaw, chopped pickle, 
chow-chow or grated horseradish should be served with fried oysters, unless 
they have a cream dressing. 

TO FRICASSEE OYSTERS. 

Warm them through in their own liquor, but do not let them boil. As 
soon as heated, pour into a colander or sieve to drain, but do not throw away 
the liquor. While the oysters are draining, put a heaping tablespoonful of 



OYSTERS. 465 

butter into a sauce-pan, and as soon as it is melted and hot (be sure it does 
not scorch) rub in two tablespoonfuls of flour; stir smoothly, and let it cook 
a minute or two where it will not scorch, then stir in the oyster liquor very 
slowly, stirring all the time. When well mixed and almost boiling, take 
from the fire, stir in instantly the well-beaten yolks of two eggs and half a 
cup of cream. Season and then put in the oysters. Place over the fire 
again for a minute, just to scald but not boil, and pour over well-buttered 
toast, and serve immediately. Those who wish this dish in perfection must 
come to the table the instant the bell is rung. , 

OYSTER PATTIES. 

"Weigh out one pound of flour and three-quarters of a pound of butter; 
chop half the butter into the flour; beat one egg and stir in; work all into 
dough with ice-water; roll out thin and then spread on a portion of the 
butter left out; then turn the butter side in, and fold closely; then roll out 
again, add more butter, fold up and roll again. Repeat this till all the 
butter is used up; then roll up and set in a very cold place or on ice while 
preparing the oysters. Strain the oysters, to free them from any bits of 
Bhell, and set them in a milk-ljoiler or some kettle that you can set into a 
sauce-pan of boiling water to prevent them from burning, aud just liquor 
enough to keep them from sticking. Skim carefully as soon as they come 
to a boil; stir in a little butter and pepper; and, if most of the liquor added 
has boiled away or been absorbed, add a little thick, rich cream. Roll out 
the puff paste quickly and lightly, and line some small tins with it. Put 
three or four oysters in each tin; dip in as much of the liquor as the tin 
will hold without boiling over; then cover with a top crust of paste. Bake 
twenty minutes in a quick oven. While hot, if desiring to glaze it, wash the 
top with a lightly beaten egg and set back in the oven a minute or two. 

LOBSTER SAUCE. 

Cut the meat of the clams and tail of a boiled lobster into small dice. 
Put an ounce of butter into a sauce-pan, and when it begins to bubble stir 
in half an ounce of flour; stir them together for a few moments, add a 
pinch of the lobster coral (dried and pounded), a gill of boiling water, 
cayenne pepper, salt and lobster dice. Stir until perfectly smooth and just 
about to boil, then remove instantly. 

MOCK OYSTERS. 
Grate enough young green corn to fill a pint measure, add to it two table- 
spoonfuls of butter, the yolks of four eggs beaten smooth, and enough flour 
to make a stiff batter; season tlie batter with salt and pepper, and drop it 

by the tablespoonful into smoking hot fat; as soon as the mock oysters thu» 

30 



46t) OYSTEES. 

formed are light brown, take them out of the fat with a skimmer, and hiy 
them on brown paper for a moment to free them from grease; serve them on 
ii napkin. 

CLAM CROQUETTES. 

Pnt two quarts small clams into a very clean sieve or colander; then put 
to them one ounce of butter, a little white broth, white pepper, and a very 
little mace. Strain and set aside the liquor drained from them. Fry a 
soup-spoon of shallots a light brown in two ounces of butter, and add to it 
one ounce of sifted Hour; rub it into the shallots till very smooth, then add 
a pint of the liquor from the clams. Let it boil live minutes, stirring it all 
the time. Beat the yolks of four eggs, add a little parsley and red pepper, 
and stir into this, with the clams chopped very fine. Boil two minutes 
longer, stirring all the time. Take it froni the fire. It will by this time be 
quite like dough. Squeeze in the juice of half a lemon, and turn into a dish 
to cool. When cool, strew pulverized crackers on the table, divide the 
dough into sixteen pieces; dip each piece into a beaten egg, then roll in the 
cracker-crumbs, and fry a nice golden-brown. Drain, as fast as cooked, on a 
cloth put over a hot dish. When all are fried, place in a circle on a hot 
dish, with fried parsley in the center, and garnish with quarters of lemon, 
and serve. 

SCALLOPED OYSTERS. 

They can be cooked all in one dish, or on (dam-shells, or large oyster- 
shells, very thoroughly cleaned. If cooked in shells, roll them in cracker- 
dust, or place a thin layer of cracker-dust on the bottom of the shell, then 
two or three oysters, then another sprinkling o( cracker-dust, just a shake 
of salt and pepper, and a little butter, then twt) or three more oysters with a 
little of the liquor each time. When thus prepared, they should be put into 
a hot oven, and as soon as they become hot and plump, they must be in- 
stantly taken up. The great danger in preparing scalloped oysters will be 
in cooking them just a little too much. That is what maks them dry and 
tough. 

If preferred in one dish, which we think much the best way, the bottom of 
the dish should be well buttered, and the cracker-dust or crumbs sprinkled 
over. Then warm the oysters for a moment, not long enough to heat them 
hot, and in their own liquor, and take up with a spooli, and with a very 
little liquor, and arrange evenly over the cracker-crumbs.' Sprinkle oyer a 
very little salt, pepper and bits of butter, then sift over more cracker, and 
add another layer of oysters with seasoning and plenty of butter, and repeat 
till the dish is full, covering last with cracker-crumbs, and put a star of 
whole oyster-crackers in the center of the dish and a row round the edges, 
l^ake in a moderate oven. 



CAR VINO 467 

8TEWEI> TKUKAPIN. 

Put them in boiling water alive, and let them remain until the claws be- 
come soft; after they are cool, open them and pick out J,he meat, being 
careful not to break the gall ; use only the meat and liver and claws. To 
one large terrapin, the yolks of three hard-boiled eggs, mashed line with one 
(ablespoonful of flour, a little cream, salt, pepper and wine to taste. Put 
into a clean tin-pan not quite a quarter of a pound of butter, let it melt, 
not allowing it to get brown; put in the terrapin (nicely picked); when 
warmed through, pour in the dressing. Let it boil up once or twice, and it 
is finished. 



CAKVING-. 

It is not a difficult thing to learn how to carve, and to serve out the food 
after carving in the best and most acceptable manner; and yet it is a duty — ■ 
an accomplishment — very sadly neglected. Our young people are not taught 
by home example to look upon it as a matter which requires any thought, 
or as an art to be secured by careful adherence to well-established rules. At 
home' they too often see the food severed somehow, no matter whether in 
<'hunks or slices, or torn off in jagged morsels, any way so tiiat the work 
of dismemberment is speedily accomplished, all at the table served and 
ready to " fall to " without ceremony. 

Now, some persons, in robust health and with digestion entirely free from 
all squeamishness or fastidiousness, may sit at a table served in this rude, 
rough way, enjoy the food and feel no disposition to criticise the manner of 
the service, but they have attained a degree of indiflference that is not 
creditable or at all a matter to boast of. To be indifrerent to or content 
with sticli service may be an evidence of strength, endurance or stoicism, 
but it seems to us only a short remove from barbarism. 

Many feel it necessary that the carving and serving should be well done 
when they have company, but of no sort of consequence when only wife and 
children are around the table. This is a great mistake, and love should 
teach every one why the home-table ought to receive the choicest and most 
careful service of all. 

Good and skilled carving, once fully understood, is the best economy — a 
great saving of time and food — because, when well done, no time is wasted 
in many ineffectual attempts to hit a joint, or cut out certain portions with- 
out tearing off an amount of skin or gristle very undesirable; and most of 
the meat can be used, when taken oflf scientifically, which would otherwise 



468 CARVING. 

be left hanging on the bones or attached to such bits of fat or gristle as ar& 
not thought suitable for use. 

It is equally desirable that a lady should be an expert carver as a gentle- 
man, and with the same amount of instruction any lady can do it as easily. 
There are a few simple rules. that should be observed by all, and others that 
become evident by practice and experience; and we confess that there are 
some rules laid down in fashionable cook-books that are not approved by 
good common sense, and some can be accepted or rejected as shall best suit 
the comfort or convenience of the carver. It is Jaid down as a rule by 
many that one must not stand up when carving. If a person is tall, or the 
chair at the head of the table is quite high, there is no doubt that it may 
be a more graceful, quiet way to keep the seat while carving, especially 
when that which is to be served is small, requiring very little dexterity. 
But where there is a large piece of beef or mutton, a ham or turkey, or 
several chickens to be served, it is certainly easier, and to our eye more 
graceful, to carve standing. One has freer movement of the arms, and there- 
fore more strength and elasticity in their use. To serve out the meat 
carved before taking the seat is more expeditious, and in both operations 
one is less liable lo soil the table-clotli around the platter if he serve out the 
various portions while standing. This is one of the cases where, if fasliioa 
and common sense come in collision, we think the latter will conquer. 

Make sure that the carving-knife is well sharpened. A long, thin 
blade is very necessary for large joints, for ham or turkey; a short, narrow, 
thin-poinied knife should be used for chickens or wild-fowl. There are 
many kinds of knife-sharpeners. Let each one choose such as he can use 
with the best eflect, and then be sure that the knife is keen before commenc- 
ing the work. 

Fouis should be placed on the platter with the breast uppermost. Put the 
fork into the breast so that it feels firm in the hand, and take off the 
wings and legs first without turning the fowl ; then cut out the " wishing- 
bone " or " merry -thought " so as to leave the well-browned skin over it, and 
' as much of the white meat as naturally belongs to that portion. Then cut 
off" the side-bones, and cut the carcass which is left in two, from the neck 
down, leaving the rump on one part, ready to be served in a separate portion 
if desired, for it is a very rich morsel and much fancied by many. Now 
take off the second joint from the leg, and joint the wing — of a turkey 
always; and we prefer also to do so with all fowls, as they are so much more 
easily picked on the plate when thus thoroughly dissected. 

A sirloin of beef should be placed on the dish with the tenderloin under- 
neath. Thin-cut slices should be cut from the side next the carver first; 
then turn over the piece and carve the tenderloin. The guests should be 
helped to a portion of both. 

JEfom or a leg of mutton should be carved across the middle of the bone first,. 



MEATS. 469 

and then from the thickest part till it becomes gristly and only fit for chop- 
ping for sandwiches. Some nice slices can be cut from the smaller end, 
but be careful not to go close enough to get the hard, stringy parts. 

Cut a tongue across, not lengtliwise. The middle and thick parts are the 
best. That near the tip is harder, and should be chopped fine and used with 
diced hard-boiled eggs for sandwiches. 

In a forequarter of lamb, separate the shoulder from the ribs, then divide 
the ribs neatly. 

To carve a loin of veal, begin at the smaller end and cut the ribs apart. Cut 
off a piece of the kidney with the fat, and when serving, help each one to 
6ome, if you find it desirable. 

A fillet of veal should be first cut from the top, helping each to some of the 
■dressing, if agreeable. 

In a breast of veal the breast and brisket must be separated, and then cut 
them in neat pieces, helping to each, if preferred. 

"When a roast pig is sent to the table, it is much better to take ofT the head 
before serving; for to many persons it is exceedingly disagreeable to have 
the pig come to the table with his head on. Cut off the legs, joint at the 
knee, and divide the ribs ; serve dressing to each plate. 

In carving a leg of venison, cut deep down to the bone, that the juices may 
run free, then turn the broad end toward you, cutting large, thin slices. 

In carving a saddle of venison, cut from the tail toward the upper part, on 
each side, thin, even slices. Plates should be well warmed for venison and 
mutton; and we think it desirable for all meats, summer or winter, that 
they should always be brought to the table warm. 



MEATS. 

We wish to call the attention of young housekeepers to the importance, as 
a matter of health as well as comfort, of cooking meats in the best possible 
manner. 

In boiling fresh meat of any kind there should be always sufficient water to 
entirely cover the meat, and lo last until the meat is satisfactorily cooked. 
The water should always be boiling hot, and the vessel in which it is cooked 
8o large that the meat will not touch the sides; giving room for the water to 
entirely surround as well as more than cover it. Keep the lid on, closely 
covering the kettle, and it will require less time and fuel to cook the meat. 
There is no need of removing the cover at all, except as it may be desirable 
now and then to look in and see that the water is not wasting too fast, and 
to remove the scum. When possible, use soft, filtered water. By putting 



470 MEATS. 

meat into boiling water one secures more of the juices and rich flavor of the 
meat. If boiled too fast, the meat will be hardened in cooking, and no boil- 
ing will make it tender. Let the water be boiling, not scalding hot merely^ 
when the meat touches it ; then remove the kettle from the liottest part of 
the stove to where the temperature will not rise above 190°; keep it at that 
heat, and let it simmer till done. Half a cup of cold water poured in foul- 
er five times during the process of cooking the meat will help the scum, or 
coagulated blood, and all impurities to rise. This scum must be very care- 
fully and thoroughly removed as it rises. 

Fresh meat will need longer time to boil than that a day or two old; a 
little more than a quarter of an hour to every pound is usually long enough. 
Never take up the meat with a fork, because, by thus piercing it, much of 
the juice and flavor flow into the liquor, making the broth (which should 
always be saved for soup-stock) richer, to be sure, but detracting fi-om the 
richness of the meat more than is desirable. A stout twine should be tied 
around the meat when first put into the water, and it can be lifted from the 
kettle, when done, by this string ; a loop on the end will make it easy to lift 
out by a large, iron fork. Do not add the salt to boiling meat until more 
than half done. The meat will be tenderer and juicier for leaving the sea- 
soning until the last. 

For stews, stone jars are much better than metal kettles or sauce-pans. The 
old brown or red earthen jar does not stand heat as well, and is also unsafe 
from the lead used in the glazing. This glazing is easily cracked by the use of 
salt, and thus the lead will be brought in contact Avitli the contents of the 
jar; the stone jar is not injured by heat, which it retains longer than metal, 
and is readily cleaned. The lid should be fitted tightly, so as to prevent 
escape of steam. 

In buying meat for a stew, choose that which has been carefully dressed 
and free from blood. Put into the sauce-pan or stone jar boiling water — a 
quart to a pound of meat will make the liquor very rich. That is no fault; 
still, if richer than is liked, it caii be weakened by adding a little boiling 
water when the salt is added; that is, when the stew is two-thirds done» 
about a teaspoonful of salt to a quart of liquor. Bring the water gradually 
back to the boiling point after the meat has been put in; of course, at first,, 
the cold meat lowers the temperature. As soon as it boils, remove all scum 
that has risen ; set the jar back where it will simmer and not quite boil, and 
let it remain in this state till the liquor is thoroughly filled with the flavor 
of the meat. Skim often and quickly, till no more scum rises ; cover steam- 
tight immediately. Before adding tlie salt, carefully remove all the fat. It 
is nicer to use for frying or suet puddings before the salt I's added. When 
no more fat rises, put in the salt. 

A stew is very nourishing if prepared as above, and it is one of the moat 
economical dishes; for although it is, of course, best when made of the 



. MEATS. 471 

choicest meat, yet any kind of meat may be used, either together or 
separately, as most convenient, and be exceedingly i)ahvtable. Those bits^ 
that can not be prepared nicely in any other way can, by judicious season- 
ing and careful stewing — keeping all the steam with the meat so that the 
flavor will not escape — be made into a most excellent and healthful dish. 
Almost all the odd bits and ends from meat which the butcher pares off, all 
gristly bits, shanks, knuckles and feet, can only be made fit for the table by 
stewing. Those pieces require longer time to cook tender than many other 
pieces; but a sensible woman, with any tact for good management, will put 
them on the stove as she goes about other work, and with very little care 
convert them — with a proper proportion of vegetables and judicious season- 
ing — into a most nutritious and attractive dish, more enjoyable than some of 
the more expensive joints. 

Housekeepers who arc obliged to study economy will do wisely to watch 
the markets for many articles which will otherwise go to waste, but which,- 
if she has skill and intelligence, can be prepared so as to be preferable,, 
under the circumstances, to that which would cost much more money- 
Bones, for instance, which can be bought for five cents, contain much that is- 
exceedingly nutritious. They should be cracked into quite small pieces, so 
that all the richness may be obtained. Just before a dish prepared from 
such materials is done, vegetables of all kinds can be cut small and added; 
carrots, turnips, cabbage, parsnips, onions, celery, beets, vegetable marrow — 
all of these can be used in a stew with excellent effect, or, if preferred, may be 
cooked in a separate dish. 

BAKED MEATS. 

No oven can ever bake meat that will at all compare for deliciousness. 
with that which is roasted; but many stoves are so made that roasting is im- 
possible, and the " roaster," " the spit and screen," " the bottle-jack and 
screen," are terms not understood by many of the housekeepers of the present 
day. We are, however, rejoiced to see that most of the new patterns for 
stoves and ranges can be used for roasting without the use of any extra fuel. 
The necessity for economy in fuel has been the chief reason why meats are 
now more frequently baked than roasted. A good, clear fire is nccessarj', 
and so substantial that it will not need replenishing till the meat is done. 
The thickest part should be hung downward, and near, and a little below, 
the center of the fire. The meat must be trimmed neatly before being put on 
the spit, and be skewered to the spit firmly, so that it will hang well bal- 
anced; then place the jack or roaster about twelve inches from the fire. 
Have in the bottom of the dripping-pan plenty of melted beef-drippings — or 
half butter and half drippings — a little water put on first to prevent scorch- 
ing. As soon as the meat is ready for the fire, and the drippings hot, baste 
the meat very thoroughly, and renew the basting every fifteen minutes^ 



472 MEATS. 

Twenty minutes to the pound is a good rule to go by in roasting. When 
half done, put the roaster a very little nearer to the lire, and dredge 
lightly with flour all over. Paper should be tied or skewered on over 
the fat when first put to roasting, but removed when the flour is first 
used. About twenty minutes before it is done, take the roaster back from 
the fire, stir the fire to a fierce heat, dredge on a little more flour, baste 
five minutes after. Ten minutes before the meat is done, drain oflT all the 
drippings, so as to allow no salt in them, and then salt the meat. No salt 
should have been used before. Then set close to the fire, dredge on a little 
more flour lightly, and do not baste again after the flour is on. When it 
i^eems well done, press the thumb on the lean part; if it yields easily to the 
pressure, or if the meat steams toward the fire, that is satisfactory evidence 
that it is done. 

The same rules for roasting apply to all meat or game. Be sure and have 
a screen round the roaster. Heat reflected from bright metallic surfaces will 
not dry or scorch the meat. Keep a square of oil-cloth or heavy paper 
around the roaster to the floor to keep the hearth clean. We give four rules 
for broiling: 

1. Be sure that the gridiron is perfectly clean, and the fire quite clear and 
free from smoke; not built any higher than the top of the fire-bricks or 
lining. 

2. Turn the meat quickly and often, and thereby prevent wasting the juice 
or scorching the steak. 

3. Keep the platter on the side of the range, that the steaks may be taken 
to table quite hot, buttering each piece as it is laid into the platter. 

4. The salt and pepper should be sprinkled on the last thing before the 
meat is taken from the fire. 

Bread and meat should be among the simplest and least difiicult ai'ticlea 
of food to cook, but for lack of care or througii unpardonable ignorance they 
are the most frequently spoiled. For the present we only propose to speak of 
meats. 

Where there are no reasons for stringent economy, and the choicest pieces 
are selected, there is no excuse if they are not so cooked as to give the 
highest gratification. For those who are compelled to choose the cheapest, 
not the best, there are many ways by which a little skill and a fair amount 
of good common sense can make even the poorer portions quite satisfactory. 
Indeed, sometimes the cheapest cuts give more pleasure than the choice 
joints that wealth provides, because the one is daintily dressed and finely 
seasoned, carefully cooked to a turn, and its plebeian origin skillfully cov- 
ered by a good farmer's sensible wife, and the other ruined by the reckless 
carelessness of the expensive cook whom no one dare censure or direct. 

Attention to the art of seasoning, a fair knowledge of the modes of making 
tough beef tender, nutritious and palatable, are important items in domestic 



MEATS. 473 

education. Many housekeepers are very careless in giving their directions, 
or in their own use of seasoning, and thus often spoil what might have been 
delicious. We say " careless," but too often it is the result of ignorance. 
The injudicious use of salt, pepper and herbs has ruined many a meal that 
should have been most excellent, and added the torrents of dyspepsia, the 
usual penalty for such ignorance or misuse of seasoning. 

It is a common practice of cooks, and often of those who are called good 
housekeepers, to sprinkle salt over meat when just ready to be put over the 
fire. Now, to salt any meat before it is well heated through — or, better still, 
half cooked — will injure very materially the best ever sold in market, and 
certainly quite spoil a poor article, no matter whether it is steak, roast or 
etew. It will harden the fibers, toughen the meat all through, extract the 
best part of the juice, make it very injurious to the stomach, and give no 
pleasure to the palate. 

If a housekeeper thinks she can explain to her cook the eflfect this mode 
of seasoning will have on health and comfort, and then feel that her part of 
the care is over, she will make a great mistake. Unless a proper supervision 
is steadily practiced, she will soon learn that explanations, and even strict 
injunctions, are usually disregarded. The salt will still be thrown over the 
meat before it is at all cooked — perhaps because the girl wants it "off" her 
mind" — and, as the result, a poor, indigestible mess of meat is set before the 
family. Should any one venture to complain, the mistress has any number 
of excuses at her tongue's end. Upon the butcher or cook, or both unitedly, 
is thrown the whole burden of blame. But, in truth, the chief fault rests 
with the housekeeper; for with her alone lies the whole responsibility. It is 
her own business to see that her instructions receive respectful attention, 
and that her orders are promptly and scrupulously obeyed. Simply to give 
the order is of little avail. One failure should suffice to teach the mistress 
that her careful supervision will have more effect than a bundled messages 
through the speaking tube or verbal directions. 

It is difficult to impress upon cooks or careless, incompetent housekeepers, 
the simple rule that salt should not be used in seasoning meat or poultry 
until partly cooked; and, on the contrary, that pepper and herbs, if used, 
should be added at an earlier stage; because all such seasonings release the 
best part of their flavor more readily by the action of heat, though not at so 
intense a degree as to evaporate, and thus lose the most delicate part of their 
flavor. 

Rapid cooking and intense heat are as injurious to the meats as to the sea- 
soning. Long, gentle cooking — simmering — is best for even the choicest 
meats, except in broiling. Pepper, spices, herbs, if used, penetrate all 
through the meat when cooked slowly ; but the best flavors evaporate under 
rapid cooking. A poor, cheap, tough piece of meat is hardly eatable, cer- 
tainly not digestible, unless these precautions are strictly observed; but it 



474 MEATS. 

can be made -wholesome and delicious if they are properly understood and 
remembered. The French understand the power of slow cooking to preserve 
all fine flavors. If they had not such great fondness for garlic, theirs would 
be the perfection of meat-cooking. 



MEAT-LOAVES, OR MEAT-CHEESE. 

Get a few pounds of beefs-neck, or such bits of meat as you have in the 
house, an ox's liver, heart, and, if you please, a tongue, as that makes the 
cheese much finer, and add half a pound of good salt pork. Boil all together 
till tender. Pick out all gristly, hard parts, then chop what you have thus 
selected very fine. Add salt, pepper, and such savory herbs as are desirable. 
The exact proportions can not be given to suit all ; and therefore it is better^ 
when all is ready and thorouglily mixed, to take out a spoonful and taste it, 
adding to the seasoning what is thought necessary. It is usually better rel- 
ished if pepper is used freely. Stir all well together and make into a ball. 
Tie it up strongly in a clean, thick cloth, and put it under a hard pressure. If 
one is so fortunate as to have an old-fashioned cheese-press hid away, it can 
be made very useful for such preparations. Leave it under pressure in a cool 
place for some hours — five or six — till firmly pressed into shape. Keep it 
cool, and it will make a fine relish cut in slices for tea. A few hard-boiled 
eggs, sliced and laid into this cheese before putting into the press, greatly 
improves it. If properly prepared and put under sufiicient pressui-e, it will 
make a solid loaf. 

A vecd-lmf, or cheese, made in a similar manner, is still better, we think ; but 
that is a matter of taste. 

Or, instead of the liver, etc., bone a loin of veal and stuff" with a force-meat 
made of finely minced ham, bacon and some bread-crumbs. Beat three eggs 
and add to the force-meat. Chop or grate a little lemon-peel ; add a very 
little of sweet marjoram, thyme and sage; only a very little of each; salt, 
pepper and a very little cayenne, and a slight sprinkling of powdered mace 
and cloves. After the stuffing is carefully put into the loin of veal and 
securely fastened, tie up the veal in the shape of a large sausage; tie over it 
thin slices of bacon or salt pork, put it into a pot, cover with well-seasoned 
and rich stock; cover up closely, and stew gently four hours. Do not let it 
boil hard at any time, only simmer. When done, let it cool in the stock, and 
when partly cold remove it ; put it under a heavy weight for some two or 
three hours, then glaze with part of the stock in which it was cooked; re- 
duce the rest of the stock to a jelly, and pour round the loaf. 

This is an excellent loaf or cheese for lunch, tea or picnics, and a good 
mode of using up inferior pieces of meat. 



MEATS. 475 

^ MEAT COLLOPa. 

Any part of beef that is tender will answer for collops. Cut the beef into 
pieces three inches long and one inch thick. Pound them flat. Sift flour 
over, and fry in butter. Then lay in a stew-pan. Cover with brown gravy, 
mince half an onion fine, add a lump of butter the size of a hen's egg, rolled 
in flour, a little pepper and salt. Stew slowly. Do not let them boil. Serve 
in a tureen very hot, with pickles, or sqiieeze in half a lemon according to 
taste. 

MEAT FRITTERS. 

Mix a heaping teacupful sifted flour into a smooth batter with a teacup- 
ful tepid water, a tablespoonful melted butter, and the well-beaten yolks of 
two eggs. Make it a little thicker than for griddle-cakes. Half a teaspoon- 
ful of salt should be sifted into the flour. Set this aside, when smoothly 
mixed, for several hours. It will be all the better if set aside over night. 
When ready to use, beat the whites of the two eggs, first sprinkling over 
them a very little salt, and, when well beaten, stir them lightly into the 
batter. Ijay the slices of meat to be cooked into this batter. Have a kettle 
of lard ready, boiling hot. Then lay the slices of meat, well covered with 
batter, into the boiling lard, and cook until nicely browned and done. Be 
careful that the pieces do not touch each other when cooking. Turn over 
so as to be well done on both sides. The meat should be cut thin, else the 
batter must cook too long. When done, take them up carefully with a 
skimmer, and lay on a plate, with pieces of paper imder them on which to 
drain. Skim tlie lard when each mess is taken out, so that no sediment may 
be floating on top to settle on the fritters. 

Boiled or baked meat, or cold ham, is nice prepared in this way; but un- 
cooked meat, if cut thin, is excellent. The lard should be strained each 
time before setting away, and then it will answer for several times. 

WESTPHALIA LOAVES. 

Grate a quarter pound of uncooked ham, and mix with one pound grated 
potatoes, raw, but of a mealy nature; add two tablespoonfuls of butter, two 
of cream and two eggs well beaten. If this quantity does not make it moist 
enough, add more cream and one more egg; but the mixture must not be too 
moist. Beat all well together till very light, then make into small balls, and 
fry in hot lard till a light brown. Serve with brown gravy, quite thick, and 
garnish with fried parsley. 

TRIPE STEWED WITH TOMATOES. 

Scald for a moment the tomatoes, eight or ten to a pound of tripe, remove 
all the skin, put them into a porcelain stew-pan with a spoonful or two of 



476 MEATS. 

water. Let them simmer slowly while the tripe is being prepared. Put to 
the tomatoes one chopped onion or two small ones, pepper, salt, and two 
tablespoonfuls of butter and two tablespoonfuls of sugar, with one tablespoon- 
ful of fine bread-crumbs. Fry the tripe in a little sweet lard, or half 
butter and half lard, which is better, salt and pepper to taste till the tripe 
is of a delicate brown, then cut it in small bits, put into a clean stew-pan, 
a:dd some rich stock, or, if none, water, with two tablespoonfuls of sweet 
buttei'. Just as it begins to simmer, dredge over some flour, little by little, 
until the gravy is thickened, then pour in the stewed tomatoes, stir all 
well together ; let it boil up two or three times, stirring all the time, and 
send to table hot. * 

BEEFSTEAKS WITH TOMATO SAUCE. 

Take a dozen and a half tomatoes, scald and skin them, then stew them 
slowly in a half pint of good beef-gravy; season and add one onion cut up 
fine — if liked. Stew for one hour. When done, broil a nice steak very care- 
fully and quickly; and as soon as done, put it into a hot platter; spread 
butter over it, season with salt and pepper, and then pour the sauce boiling 
hot over the steak, and serve hot. 

Or, prepare beefsteak with oysters. Strain thirty oysters ; boil the liquor, 
skim well ; when clear from all scum, drop in the oysters, just as the liquor 
comes to a boil. When the gills have turned, stir in two tablespoonfuls of 
butter rolled smooth in one tablespoonf ul of flour with sufficient pepper and 
salt. Have a nice steak, well broiled, on a hot platter, with a spoonful and 
a half of butter spread over it. Pour the oysters, as soon as done, over the 
steak, and serve hot. 

BEEF-TONGUE (FKESH). 

Parboil the tongue in a little water for two hours. Don't let it boil hard. 
After boiling one hour, add some salt. Then let it boil one more hour, when 
it should be taken up and skinned, removing all the rough part. Then beat 
one egg, and roll the tongue in cracker-crumbs or dust and the beaten egg. 
Lay it in a pan, season with salt and pepper, and pour over it half a pint of 
the water it was boiled in, and bake. Baste well with butter while baking. 
Serve with a good gravy. 

A STEW FROM COLD MEATS. 

Get a knuckle of veal and put with it a ham-bone and any bones of roast 
meat of any kind. Stew slowly till the bones can be easily removed. Then 
put to the meat celery tops or seed, onions, and pepper and salt. Thicken 
with flour rolled in butter. Add six or eight good mealy potatoes, peeled 
and quartered, and let it all stew slowly till the potatoes are done. Serve 
hot. 



MEATS. 477 

CABBAGE-LEAF DOLE-MAH. 

Take some fine, large cabbage-leaves, and ivilt them; chop one cupful of 
raw beef very fine, one small onion chopped fine, one large ripe tomato, quar- 
ter of a cup of uncooked rice, and a little salt. Roll very closely one-half 
tablespooni'ul of this mixture into a piece of the wilted cabbage-leaf; fold in 
the ends of the leaf closely, so that none of the contents can escape. When 
all the mixture has been thus rolled up, in small balls, place in rows in a 
flat-bottomed sauce-pan, with a little water in the bottom, at first. Leave the 
8auce-pan uncovered, let it stand and simmer fifteen minutes, then add more 
water, and cover up closely; and boil slowly, but not over a fierce fire, one 
hour. 

SPICED CORNED BEEF. 

This is a fine relish, and very easily prepared. Get ten pounds of the best 
beef, that which is used for drying — the " rump" or " round " — is the most 
desirable. Mix two cups of salt, two of molasse.?, two tablespoonfuls salt- 
peter, one tablespoonful ground pepper, one of ground cloves, half a table- 
spoonful cinnamon, and a teaspoonful and a half of red pepper, and, if fan- 
cied, half a tablespoonful of allspice and a slight sprinkling of herbs (a little 
sage, thyme, and sweet marjoram), not more than half a teaspoonful of each. 
Stir all together, and rub well into the beef. Let it stand in whatever liquor 
is left from the first rubbing, twenty-four hours, then turn over and rub in 
the seasoning again. Continue this for ten days, when it will be ready for use. 

TO CURE AND DRY BEEF-TONGUES. 

Prepare a brine as follows : 

For one dozen tongues take as much water as will cover them entirely — six 
quarts will be about the right quantity. Put to the water one quart of good, 
clear salt, one pint of molasses, one pound of brown sugar, and four good- 
sized red peppers. Put over the fire, and bring to a boil. Take off all scum 
that may arise, and set it aside to get cold. Pack the tongues in a large jnr 
or tight firkin, and pour the brine over them when thoroughly cold; put on 
them a clean, well-seasoned board, fitted into the jar or firkin, and on tcjp of the 
board lay a clean, smooth stone, sufficiently heavy to keep the tongues firmly 
under the brine. Leave them in it twelve days, then take them out, hang 
them up to drain. Then hang them to smoke two days, and, when dry, put 
them in canvas-bags or flour-sacks, that, after being emptied, have been 
washed, dried and laid away for just such purposes. Hang these bags 
with the tongues in a cool, dry place, where the sun will not strike on 
them. 

When one is needed for use, wash in two or three waters, put over the fire 



478 MEATS. 

in cold water, and let it boil slowly, or in a steady simmer, six or eight hours, 
till quite tender, keeping it well covered with water while cooking, adding boil- 
ing water when the first boils away. When tender, take it out, set aside to 
cool, but never take off" the skin till needed for the table. 
Never allow salt meats of any kind to boil hard. 

FRENCH BROILED STEAK. 

Cut the steaks two-thirds of an inch thick from a fillet of beef ; dip into 
melted, fresh butter, lay them on a heated gridiron and broil over hot 
coals. When nearly done sprinkle pepper and salt. Have ready some 
parsley, chopped fine and mixed with softened butter. Beat them together 
to a cream, and pour into the middle of the dish. Dip each steak into th^ 
butter, turning them over, and lay them round on the platter. If liked, 
squeeze a few drops of lemon over, and serve very hot. 

BEEFSTEAK EOLLS. 

Cut a beafsteak quite thick, then split it open, lengthwise, and cut in 
strips four or five inches wide, rub over the inside with an onion, and in 
each strip roll up a thin slice of bread, buttered on both sides ; stick two 
cloves in the bread, and sprinkle some salt, pepper, celery-seed (cut or thin 
slices of nice celery-stalk if in season) and put into the gravy. Tie each 
roll with a thread ; dredge it with flour, and fry in hot butter. Then put 
these, when a delicate brown, into a stew-pan, with only water enough 
to stew them. Make a nice thickened gravy from the liquor in which 
the steaks were stewed, and serve with the rolls, very hot. The rolls 
should stew slowly two hours. Veal or mutton is good prepared in this 
way. 

TO WARM UP COLD MEAT. 

First make a pufF paste, as follows : Boil and mash four good, mealy 
potatoes ; beat up three eggs lightly — two will answer — and mix with the 
potatoes; beat together thoroughly; add, gradually, one cup of milk, and 
enough flour to make it stiff" enough to roll out into a sheet. Cut the paste 
in squares, and in the center of each put a thin slice of beef or mutton, 
season with pepper and salt (be careful and not use too much), and spread 
over a very little mustard or catsup. Then place on top a thin slice of ham, 
of the same shape and size as the meat. Fold the paste into a triangular 
turn-over, stamping the edges deeply with a jagging-iron to keep them 
close. Then fry in butter or beef-drippings to a nice brown. Be careful 
not to scorch them. When done, lay on white paper a few moments to 
absorb the grease, and serve hot. 



MEATS. 479 

TO BROIL SWEET-BREADS. 

Soak an hour in salt and water. Drain. Parboil, then rub well in 
butter, and broil. Turn often, and each time they are turned, roll them in 
a plate of hot melted butter, so they need not become hard and dried. 

DRIED-BEEF UNSMOKED. 

This is often inquired for at grocery-stores, but we have never been 
able to obtain it but in one place, and presume it can be obtained there 
still. Carlos L. Smith, Main Street, Montpelier, Vermont, did have 
such an establishment eighteen months ago; and in all probability Ver- 
mont sugar-cured dried beef, unsmoked, can be obtained there still, 
It was advertised as " a specialty," and we found it exceedingly nice. 

TO PREPARE AND BOIL CORNED BEEF. 

Select a nice piece of fresh beef, rub over it sufficient salt to "corn" 
it, but not to make it very salt. Let it stand two or three days, judging 
of the time by size of the meat. Then wash thoroughly in cold water, and 
putting in the pot, cover with cold water and boil gently till quite tender. 
Add such vegetables as are desired, like the old time-honored " boil dish." 
Judge of the quantity of vegetables by the strength of flavor desired in the 
soup to be made from the water in which the whole is boiled. When done, 
dish beef and vegetables, and serve hot. 

BUBBLE AND SQUEAK. 

Cut two pounds of cold meat in neat, thin slices ; lay them in a stew-pan 
with an ounce of butter, and brown them. While the meat is browning, chop 
one head of tender cabbage, leaving out all the hard stalks. Put the cabbage 
with two ounces of butter in a sauce-pan, add a teaspoonful of salt and a 
little pepper, black or red, as suits the taste. Let it cook slowly till quite 
tender, stirring occasionally. When both the meat and cabbage are done, 
lay the beef in the center of a hot dish, and place the cabbage neatly 
around. Send to table hot. You see a foolish name is given to a very 
simple dish. 

TO GRILL A SHOULDER OF LAMB. 

Put it in a close steamer, and let it steam till half cooked. Then eeason 
with salt and pepper, brush over with beaten egg, and cover with finely 
rolled bread-crumbs or cracker, and put on a gridiron and broil over a slow 
fire till of a rich brown. Be careful not to scorch. The breast of lamb is 
excellent cooked in this way. 

Scorching spoils it, or any broiled meat. If the coals are kept no 
higher than the fire-bricks, there is no danger of scorching; but almost 
impossible to avoid it if the fire is above the bricks. The instant a blaze 



480 MEATS. 

springs from the dripping fat, lift the gridiron a little ahove the range, till 
it goes out. A blaze under broiling meat gives a smoked taste, even if it 
does not scorch it. 

CURRIED CHOPS, WITH RICE. 

First wash a quarter of a pound of rice several times in cold water; then 
put it into a quart of boiling water, with a scant tablespoonful of salt, 
and boil very fast twenty minutes. Shake it out into a colander to drain. 
Fry brown two pounds of pork-chops, cut from the loin, in a little butter, 
drain ofl" all the grease, and then pour over the chops half a pint of 
Spanish sauce, and a tjiblespoonful of curry-powder, wet up in two table- 
spoonfuls of cold water, and mix very smooth. Put them in a wreath on a 
hot platter, pour the sauce over the bottom of the dish, and fill the center 
with the rice, which should be kept hot while draining. 

To make the Spanish sauce: Fry one ounce of bacon or ham, cut up in 
very small bits, in an ounce of lard ; as soon as brown, put to it two 
ounces of carrot and the same amount of onion sliced ; then stir in two 
ounces of dry flour, and brown well; then add one quart of stock, or if 
none on hand, use one quart of water and a pound of lean meat, chopped 
very liue. Season with a teaspoonful of salt and half that quantity of pepper, 
and a bouquet of sweet herbs. Simmer gently for an hour, skimming as 
often as any scum rises. Then strain this sauce, adding a gill of wine. 

To be used to season any dark meat, or game, or baked fish. It will keep 
a week or ten days in a dark place. 

To make a bouquet of sweet herbs, so much called for in foreign cooking, 
take three or four sprigs of parsley, lay in the midst one sprig of thyme 
and two bay-leaves ; after washing them free from dust, fold the parsley 
over the thyme apd bay-leaves, and tie it into a cork-shaped roll, about three 
inches long and one inch thick. 

This bouquet is used to season soups, sauces, stews and savory dishes in 
general, and is removed when the dish is served. 

DEVILED KIDNEYS. 

Wash a pound of sheep or lamb kidneys — some use pig's kidneys, but we 
don't like them— dry them on a towel, and split them open, without 
entirely separating the two halves ; spread them thinly with a paste made 
by mixing together one tablespoonful each of dry mustard, flour and 
vinegar, one saltspoonful of salt, quarter of a saltspoonful of white pepper, 
and a dust of cayenne pepper, and broil them over a brisk fire until they 
are brown. 

BROILED KIDNEYS. 

Wash and dry the kidneys. Dip them in a seasoning made with three 
tablespoonfuls salad-oil or melted butter, one tablespoonful vinegar, a 



MEATS. 481 

saltspoonful salt, and a half-saltspoonfnl pepper. Run a skewer through 
them — when they have heen well dipped in this mixture— and broil over 
a clear fire, but not too hot, till of a clear brown. Hold the inside finst 
over the fire. 

CHROMSKIES. 

A lady writes: "I was offered a dish at a restaurant lately, named 
chromskies; but the name was so outlandish, I was unwilling to taste it, yet 
am curious to learn how it was made, or what it is like." 

No one need fear to taste any dish with a foreign name, unless oil, which 
is put into most foreign dishes, is disagreeable. At a French restaurant one 
may reasonably expect that oil will be largely used in the cooking; but 
an "outlandish name" is not, of necessity, any thing uncommon — only a 
foreign name to a simple dish, to make the " bill of fare " look genteel. To 
make chromskies chop three cupfuls of cold fowl in small dice, cut one onion 
■ fine and fry in a stew-pan, with two tablespoonfiils of butter, till of a deep 
yellow or golden brown, then add two tablespoonfuls of flour, stir to the 
onion and butter two minutes, and then stir in one cup of boiling broth or 
stock ; then add the chopped fowl, two-thirds of a cup of ham, chopped 
fine, a spoonful and a half of chopped parsley, a saltspoon of powdered 
thyme, the same of celery-salt, the yolks of two eggs well beaten, half a 
cupful of mushrooms, with salt and pepper to season to the taste. Stir 
together over the fire a few minutes, till all is thoroughly mixed, then set 
it away to cool and grow firm. When ready for use, turn out of the dish, 
cut in neat slices and dip in common batter, then fry in hot fat five 
minutes. The chicken and ham should be all ready, the eggs beaten, and 
all the ingredients close at hand before the onion is put to fry. 

For the batter in which to dip the slices when cold, take one cupful of 
flour, half a teaspoonful of baking-powder, a little salt, two eggs, one 
cupful milk, and a tablespoonful melted butter. Mix into a batter as for 
griddle-cakes. If you wish the dish to be French, use a tablespoonful of 
sweet-oil instead of butter. 

ROAST VENISON. 
Select a saddle of fresh, juicy venison weighing about eight pounds. 
Season with pepper and salt, lard it with strips of fat pork, or put plenty 
of butter cut into small pieces over the top. Dredge it with flour, sprinkle 
a little water over it, and put it into a hot, steady oven, with hot water in 
the bottom of the dripping-pan. Bake it according to the directions given 
for roast-beef. It will take about two hours to cook it. A haunch of veni- 
son may be roasted the tmrae way, but three hours will be required to cook it. 
It is usually covered with a thick paste of flT)ur and water before putting it 

in the oven. The neck and leg of venison may aLso be roasted according 
31 



482 MEATS. 

to the directions given. If liked, venison may be basted occasionally 
■with claret. Always serve it steaming hot, with hot plates. Serve with it 
currant or wild-grape jelly. 

VENISON STEAK (FRENCH BKOILED). 

Put a thin spider over the tire, and let it get very hot, then put in a very 
thick venison steak nicely trimmed. As soon as it browns a little on one 
side, turn it. Keep turning it frequently until it is sufficiently cooked. 
Then add half a tablespoonful of butter, some pepper and salt, lialf a gill 
of port-wine, and a tablespoonful of cnrrant-jelly. Turn the steak over 
and over in this mixture, then serve it at once. It is better if cooked 
at the table in a cliating-dish. 

SWEET-BREADS. 

Soak two sweet-breads in cold water for one hour; change the water 
twice; put them in boiling water ten minutes till they are tirm, then take 
them out and place them in cold water until wanted. I'lace them in a 
"stew-pan, cover them with stock, and simmer nearly an hour; take them 
out, put tliem on a hot dish, remove the gravy from the fire in a minute, 
and add to it gradually the yolk of an egg and four tablespoonfuls of 
cream ; put this over a fire till the sauce thickens, hut do not let it boil. 
Before serving, add the juice of a lemon, pour the sauce ai-onnu the sweet- 
breads, and send to table with a dish of green pease. They may be cut up 
and fried after dipping in egg and rolled in crumbs. 

LAKDED SWEET-BREADS WITH PEASE. 

Soak the sweet-breads in cold water one hour, change the water, and soak 
half hour longer in cold water, with a little salt to extract the blood and 
make them Avhite. Tlien wipe dry on a clean meat cloth, and with a 
larding-needle draw narrow strips of sweet salt-pork through as many 
sweet-breads as you intend to cook. Let these strips project evenly, half 
an inch on the upper side. The pork should be well washed before 
cutting the strips. This done, put the* sweet-breads in a skillet, with 
enough hot water to cover them, and let them simmer slowly for half an 
hour. Then take them from the water, and put into a small dripping- 
pan with a little butter, a gill of water and a sprinkling of Hour. Set 
in the oven, and brown delicately ; add half a cup of cream, just before 
taking them up. If no cream, nse milk and a little butter; season with 
pepper and a little salt, if the pork has not salted them sufficiently. 
Heat half a pint of cream, and when the sweet-breads are placed on the 
platter, stir the cream into the gravy in the pan. Sprinkle a little more 
flour into the gravy before adding the cream, and let all boil up a 



ME A TS. 483 

minute or two — long enough to tliickcn tlic gravy. Tlicn pour it over 
the sweet-breads. Have the pease all ready boiled and neasoned, and put 
round the Hwcet- breads. 

SWEET-BREADS WITH MUSHROOMS. 
Put one and a half dozen small, fresh mushrooms into a skillet; cover 
with boiling water. Stew half an hour, and, while stewing, have the 
Bweet-brcads soaking in salted water. When done, take the mushrooms from 
the water and put the sweet-breads into the skillet; let them stew fifteen 
minutes, then add to them tv^o ounces of butter, some pepper and salt, and 
return the mushrooms. Sprinkle some flour over all, stew fifteen minutCB 
longer, and serve. 

SWEET-BREADS WITH TOMATOES. 

Slice and stew two quarts of ripe tomatoes and one onfon, if liked, until 
they break ; then strain through a sieve into a sauce-pan, and add four or 
five sweet-breads that have been well trimmed and soaked in warm water. 
iStir in two or three ounces of butter, rolled in flour, with salt and pepper, 
or cayenne to suit the taste, cook iuilf an liour slowly. Just before serving, 
add the beatcjn yolks of two eggs; then take the sweet-breads up into a deep 
dish, and pour the tomatoes over them. 

IUKE1> I'KJ. 

A pig a month old is the best. Take none that are not plump and well 
j<rown. After it is properly dressed, wash thoroughly in cold water, then 
with soda and water, to remove any unpleasant odor; then give a thorough 
washing in salt and water; rinse with clear, cold water, and wipe inside. 
Make a force-meat with bread-crumbs, a little salt pork chopped fine, sea- 
soned with sage, savory, pepper, salt and a chopped onion; or reject any of 
these not agreeable. Stuff the pig to the natural size and shajjc and sew it 
up; bend the forefeet backward, the hindfeet forward under and close to the 
body, and skewer them into ])roper position. Dry well, and dredge with 
flour. Put it to roast with a little hot water slightly salted in the pan. 
Baste with butter and water three times as the pig gradually warms — after- 
wards with the dripping. When it begins to .smoke or steam, rub it over 
every five minutes or so with a cloth dipped in melted butter. Do not omit 
this, as it will make the skin tender and soft after it begins to brown, otherwise 
it will be tough and hard. Skim the gravy well ; add a little hot water, 
thicken with flour, let it boil up once, and strain into the tureen. A pig, suita- 
ble for baking or roasting, must not be younger than four weeks or older than 
«ix weeks. Every day later than six weeks takes from the delicacy of th« 
flavor, and they grow coarse and strong. 



484 MEATS. 

SPAEE-EIB. 
Eub the spare-rib with salt, pepper, and, if agreeable, powdered sage. 
Put into the dripping-pan with about a pint of water. Baste often to pre- 
vent drying. Cook thoroughly, as nothing is more unpalatable or unhealthy 
than rare-done pork. 

POEK-STEAKS. 
Skin them, and broil over a clear but not scorching fire, so as not to dry 
them. Have ready on a hot platter two ounces of butter, an even teaspoon- 
ful of salt, and half a teaspoonful of pepper and one teaspoonful of grated 
onion. When the steaks are done, turn them several times in this gravy, 
then cover the platter closely, and set in the oven a few minutes, then serve. 
If desired, a little powdered sage may be put to the gravy. 

BOILED HAM. 

Soak over night in warm water a ham of about ten or twelve pound* 
weight. In the morning, scrape and clean perfectly. Then put it into a 
large ham-kettle filled with cold water, and let it simmer, not boil at all, for 
half an hour. Then pour ofl" the water, and put to it more cold water. 
"When it gets hot, add a pint of cider vinegai-. For a ten-pound ham, 
reckoning after it begins to boil, allow three hours for cooking, and a half 
an hour for every additional pound ; don't let it ever boil very hard at any 
time. When done, take it out, remove the skin, and stick whole cloves into 
it, cover \vith fine bread-crumbs and bake a half hour. Put a cut paper 
frill around the bone, and cover with currant jelly and parsley. 

STUFFED HAM. 

Make a nice stuffing of finely-crumbed bread, .season with pepper and 
celery -seed, and heat it with a small bit of butter. Fill the open space in 
the ham with this dressing, making it look like a whole ham. Smooth over 
the surface, and heat in the oven slowly, then bake half an hour. Then 
cover with grated bread^ sprinkle over a little sugar, brown and serve. 

SUGAE-CUEED HAMS. 
First see that the hams are perfectly cold after the hog has been slaugh- 
tered. When no more animal heat remains, cut out the round bone so as 
not to have the ham too thick ; then rub well with common salt, and leave 
them in a large wooden bowl or small tub for three days, turning them over 
in the salt now and then. If left in tin it is apt to rust, and that does not 
make the hams look nice, and will be apt to impart a little unpleasant taste 
to the ham. 



MEATS. 485 

Wlien the salt lias extracted all the blood, throw away the brine, and use 
the following: 

For two hams of eighteen pounds each take one pound of moist brown 
sugar, one pound of common salt, two ounces of pulverized saltpeter and 
two teaspoonfuls of fine cayenne pepper. Sprinkle over first half of the salt- 
peter; rub well, first with the saltpeter, then with salt; fill up the hock as 
full of salt as it will retain. Then sprinkle over half the red jjcpper and 
sugar. Turn over the hams, and proceed with the under side as directed for 
the upper. This done, and all ingredients well rubbed in, put the hams into 
something large enough to hold them and the liquor which will be formed. 
Keep them always covered with salt, and turn them over every day. After they 
have lain in this state three or four days, pour over them a quart of the best 
cider vinegar, and leave in this brine one month ; turning them over often in 
the brine. 

If they are only intended for pickled hams, not to be smoked, take them 
out of the brine or pickle at the end of the month, put them to drain till 
perfectly dry, then powder with coarse fiour and hang in a dry place. The 
same brine will do to use again, but for the second set of hams, if cured in 
that pickle, there must not be so much salt used. 

If the hams are to be smoked, have them well drained when taken out; 
hang them up for two or three days in dry weather before smoking, brushing 
ofl' all the salt which adheres. 

Smoke for three to four weeks. Hickory wood is the best to use in smok- 
ing meats. When done, take them down and sprinkle black pepper over 
them, wrap in thick paper, and then put each into a strong bag, canvas or 
cottou sheeting, whitewash the bag after tying in the hams, and keep them 
hung up in a dry, cool pliice until needed. 

Some say that there is no better way to keep hams through the summer 
than to hang them in the smoke-house, which will not be needed for smok- 
ing in the summer, and keep it perfectly dark. If one has no smoke-house, 
hang in a dark room, putting each ham into a canvas-bag closed, sewed up, 
and whitewash the bag thoroughly; or rub them all over with wood-ashes, 
pack closely in barrels and cover with wood-ashes. 

BONED HAMS. 

Soak the ham all night in tepid water. In tlie morning put it into a 
kettle of warm, not hot, water, boil till perfectly tender, put on a platter or 
wooden tray, let it cool, and then carefully remove all the bones. Cut it- 
clear round the hock, and loosen it from the thick part with a very thin, 
sharp knife, and pull out all the bones carefully. Then press it in shape, tie it 
or tie in a cloth, return to the boiling liquor, take the pot off the fire, and 
leave the ham in the liquor till cold; cut it across like a beef-tongue when 
cold. 



486 POULTRY. 

BAKED HAM. 

The comparative excellence of boiled oi- baked ham mut<t be determiiunf 
by trial, as tastes dilVer so widely. Be sure the ham is of the best iiuality, 
large and juicy, not too fat. A small ham will dry too much if baked. 
Wash the ham thoroughly, scrape oft' all mold that may be about the under 
side, then put it into a large ham-kettle, and cover with cold water, set over 
the fire till it is nearly boiling hot. Then pour oft' the water, wash and. 
scrape again, to remove such dark moldy places as could not come off" before 
heating. Fill the kettle again with cold water, and place again over the 
fire, and if not a very salt ham, the water will not need lo be changed 
again. To be sure of this, when it has boiled a few minutes, raise the iiam 
from the water with a meat-fork, run a "skewer" into it, and by tasting as 
it is drawn out one can tell if it is fi-esh enough. If not, change the water 
once more, fill up again with cold, and leave it to boil till about two-thirds 
cooked. Then take up, remove the skin; have x-eady, rolled and sifted some 
dried bread-crumbs or cracker; sprinkle over and rub into the ham three 
tablespoonfuls of sugar with some black pepper, then cover the ham evenly 
with the sifted crumbs. It is better to bake it half an hour before putting 
on the crumbs. Put it into a bake-pan without water, with a wire rack at 
the bottom to keep the under side from the pan and drippings, and bake slowly 
till the whole surface is of a clear, rich brown, about half an hour. A 
dozen whole cloves and a few bits of stick cinnamon stuck into the ham,, 
before the crumba are sprinkled over, impart a pleasant flavor, much relished 
by many. 



POULTET, 

When properly cooked, few articles of food are more desirable than '' broil- 
ers" or young chickens; but, unfortunately, they are seldom prepared in such 
style as to develop their best qualities, or yield half the gratification they 
might. Like most kinds of meat they are cooked so injudiciously that the 
juices are lost, and the flesh becomes hard and stringy. This is too much 
the case with fried or baked chickens, as well as with the young "broilei-s.'^ 

" Broilers " are usually sent to market too young, and if they are ordered 
by proxy, and the selection left to the judgment of the butcher or poultry 
merchant, they are apt to be little more than ''skin and bones." 

Every lady should have been educated to understand perfectly how to 
make a judicious choice of every article of food befoi'e she assumed the caiv 
and responsibility of a household. If she has not had this most desirable 



POULTRY. 48T 

and much-needed training in her girlhood, tlicn a course of earnest self-edu- 
cation should be entered upon, and perfected as rapidly as possible, to enable 
Jier to judge correctly of the quantity and quality of every article needed 
for the comfort of her family. The u)istress of every house, as far as lies in 
her power, would do well to attend to her own marketing. If she does this, 
let her, in the selection of chickens for broiling, be sure that they have been, 
long enough out of the shell to furnish a sulHcient amount of nourishment 
to j)ay for the trouble of cooking. •' 

For broiling, split a chicken down the back; clean and wasli thoroughly; 
twist the tip of the wing over the second joint ; wipe the body dry, inside and 
out, with a clean meat-cloth (never with a wiping-towel) ; spread it out, and 
with a rolling-pin or potato-masher break the projecting breast-bone, so that 
the chicken may lie flat on the gridiron when ready to broil. Set it in the 
ice-chest for several hours after cleaning; still better if it is left there all 
night, and thus be sure it is well aired 

About an hour before time to cook the chicken, put the giblets into a small 
.skillet with a little pepper ; pour in a cup and a half of boiling water, and set 
it where they will boil gently till quite tender. Then salt them; take up 
and chop very fine, sifting over a little flour. When sufficiently line, return 
them to the water in which they were boiled, stirring occasionally as it thick- 
ens. Beat to a smooth paste three tablespoonfuls of butter and one of flour, 
ready for use when tlie chicken is cooked. Put the gridiron over a clear 
but not fierce fire. When hot rub the bars with a clean cloth dipped in 
nicely-clarified drippings or butter, and place the chicken over. Sprinkle on 
a little black pepper. Turn often to prevent scorching. When of a delicate 
brown both sides, but not more than half-cooked, sprinkle on both sides what 
salt is needed and a little more pepper. Leave it over the fire a moment 
for the seasoning to penetrate, then put it into a steamer or farina-kettle (a 
steamer is much the best) large enough at the bottom to keep the chicken 
in good shape. Spread over it the butter and flour that has been made ready, 
and then cover or "smother" it in rich cream, if plenty, or add more butter 
and cover with milk. Cover very close, if a farina-kettle is used, so no. 
steam may escape, and set it into the receiver or lower kettle, in which 
there should be enough boiling water just to touch the bottom of the upper 
kettle. Let it simmer or " smother " in the cream, and seasoning from fifteen 
to twenty-five minutes according to the size of the chicken. 

When about ready to take up, pour the gravy in which the giblets are 
simmering over it; then take the upper kettle out of the receiver; set it over 
the stove; let it boil up briskly two or three minutes, stirring the liquid 
gently, without disturbing the chicken, till it All thickens ; then lift it care- 
fully to a platter on which are slices of nicely-toasted bread, and j>our the 
gravy about it. 

These directions are long on account of the minute specifications, but the 



488 POULTRY. 

whole work can be done in thirty -five minutes ; and if on a faithful trial this 
is not conceded to be vastly superior to the common specimens of drjed-up, 
tough broiled chicken, we shall be disappointed. For those who like highly- 
seasoned food a very small sprinkling of savory herbs or a little tomato- 
catsup may be thought an improvement. 

Fried chicken should be prepared in a similar manner. Fry carefully in 
hot butter or lax'd till delicately brown on both sides, then treat as broiled 
chicken. 

Until chickens are full-fleshed and suitable for baking, thisdoublo cooking 
is the only way we are acquainted with to secure a wholesome and palatable 
article. 

When old and tough, baking chickens may be prepared in a similar way, 
only reversing the order, "smothering" first — an hour if very tough, in water 
instead of cream, and bake till well browned. 

Pigeons, quails, partridges, etc., are delicious if half-baked, then "smoth- 
ered" till very tender; and all such dry meats as these birds are greatly 
improved by being larded all over the breasts with nice salt pork before 
baking. 

Poultry, if not kept too long, should be entirely free from disagreeable 
taste or smell. Turkey, goose and duck require more care, being stronger 
flavored and more oily than chickens; but we are aware that they often have 
a very unpleasant taste, chiefly around those parts nearest to the insides. 
Wings, breast, second joint and drumsticks may be perfectly sweet ; while the 
other parts, back-bone, side-bones and spots around the crop and breast, may 
be very unpleasant and repulsive. 

This can not, however, be the case if care is taken not to break the entrails 
when drawing them ; if the bird is carefully washed, first in clear, cold water, 
and then in salt water, and when hungup overnight — as it shou^ld be — to 
drain and air, a piece of clean charcoal is put inside. Many cooks disap- 
prove of washing poultry after dressing, and direct that no water must be 
used, but they must be wiped dry Avith a clean cloth kept for that purpose. 
We can not think this either neat or advisable. No care in wiping and dry- 
ing can give the thorough cleansing that washing will do. W^e think we 
could detect the unpleasant flavor in any bird, wild or domestic, that has 
not been carefully washed, and especially with goose and turkey. The wash- 
ing should be done as quickly as possible, and the bird be then hung up 
over-night to drain and air, and a piece of clean charcoal be put inside. 

Basfing. — Contrary to many cook-books, we should advise that poultry 
should not be basted with the drippings which come from them Avhen cook- 
ing. Let it cook and slightly brown in a hot oven for fifteen or twenty 
minutes; then take the pan from the oven, lay the fowl on a platter, and 
•drain ofif all the grease that has been drained out. Return to the pan, 
sprinkle over what salt and pepper is needed, dredge with flour. Pour into 



POULTRY. 489 

the pan half a oup of water, slightly salted and peppered. Rub little bits 
of butter over the bird for the first basting, part of which will drop into the 
pan; after that, baste every fifteen minutes with the water and butter, and 
whatever may, after the first, drip into the pan from the fowl. 

VARrETY IN COOKING CHICKENS. 

The variety of modes for preparing cliickens is innumerable. We strongly 
advocate steaming in a close receiver, first, as securing all the juices, which 
are usually wasted if the chicken is, without any steaming, put on at once 
to cook in the usual way. Even a young broiler is incomparably better if 
put in a closely-covered dish and steamed for twenty minutes before putting 
any salt or pepper on. By this means all the juices of the meat will be 
paved in the dish like a rich "stock." The meat will be very tender; even 
the tips of the wings will be like jelly, instead of being dry and worthless. 
About half an hour before putting the chicken to steam, set the giblets over 
the fire in a very little water, just enough to cover; season them when about 
half done, and leave to boil till tender. Then chop very fine, return to the 
water, and thicken with some brown flour well stirred in. Let that simmer 
while the cliickcn receives attention. Take it out of the steamer, turn the 
juices into the gravy, and stir well. Then butter tlie bars of a hot gridiron, 
and place the chicken on it. The heat of the steam will have closed the 
pores, and there will be no waste and very little of the disagreeable smoke 
that usually annoys one when broiling. A few minutes over a clear fire 
■will suffice to give the rich brown so desirable in all broiled meats. When 
done, lay the chicken, well seasoned, on a hot platter, spread butter over, and 
then pour on the gravy, and, when eaten, tell us some better way for broiling 
chickens if you can. 

'. Well, we have given a full receipt for broiling a chicken, and will another 
time give several that are well worth trying. But our present object was 
simply to specify some of the many ways in which chickens may be cooked, 
and leave the directions for doing it to a more convenient season. 

A baked chicken is so common that a receipt for it is, some think, super- 
fluous. A mistaken notion. Simply to bake or roast is one thing, but to 
lard and bake is very much better. To lard, then steam, and finish by 
baking, gives another and much superior variety. 

To boil a chicken is, to our taste, the least attractive mode. To boil, then 
brown in the oven and baste thorougiily, transforms a very commonplace, 
insipid dish into a much more appetizing repast. 

A steamed chicken, without any additional embellishment, makes also a 
pleasant variety; but a chicken larded, then steamed, taken from the steamer 
"when neatly done and " braised " or browned in the oven, make two more 
•excellent changes. « 

In larding, some use good, sweet salt pork. Some prefer fat bacon for 



490 POULTRY. 

the sake of the flavor which smoked bacorfgives, instead of the simpler flavor 
of sweet pork. 

Fricasseed chicken can he prepared in several ways, each good, but so dis- 
similar that one could wish that each should be honored with a title as- 
distinct as the flavor of each will be when well prepared. 

Breaded chickens is a favorite way of preparing tender young chickens, 
and that under the same name may be made a totally different dish. 

Chickens for a lunch party are cooked one way; for a traveling lunch 
they are not very near of kin. 

A chicken pot-pie, a chicken pie, a chicken pie with oysters, are three 
varieties. 

Fried spring chicken, with cream, is excellent. Fried chicken, with okra 
and tomatoes, is quite as good ; but fried delicately, then simmered in cream, 
and dished with a rich brown gravy is unsurpassed. 

Jellied chicken is very good, and an economical way of using old fowls so 
as to make a favorite relish for tea. It can be prepared in several ways, each 
giving a totally different relish, making it difficult to choose which is the best. 

Pickled chicken is relished by many for lunches, but we know of but one 
way to prepare it. There doubtless are several more. 

Pressed chicken, another of the many varieties of preparing poultry, is 
something akin to boned turkey, or can be made similar by a little skill in 
preparing it. 

Chicken curried with rice, or, for a change, with cocoanut, is esteemed a 
choice luxury. 

Pilau — a mode of preparing chicken which we get from China and the 
East Indies, and which one can aff^ord to be grateful for; and Timbal, an- 
other luxury from over the seas. 

. Chicken molded in jelly, chicken pates, and any number of ways to make 
chicken croquettes. 

Kissoles, the Indian fashion of cooking fowls, the French, Italian styles, 
and countless ways of preparing chicken salad, all go to swell the number of 
ways in which chicken can be prepared for the table. 

The young housekeeper, who is "so tired of the same old routine" of serv- 
ing this favorite dish, need only to understand the true art of housekeeping 
a little more clearly to find that there are but very few of her duties that 
need to weary her by lack of variety. 

A little patience and skill, an inquiring mind and a disposition to experi- 
ment cautiously, and with a good judgment, will give a zest and novelty to 
duties that might otherwise weary for lack of variety. 

CHICKEN SAUTE. 
Any mode of frying chicketi may be called chicJcen. saute. After thoroughly 
cleaning two young and tender chickens, rather older than broilers, cut 



POULTRY. 491 

them into quarters; crack the main bones with a potato-masher or meat- 
pounder; flatten tlie quarters slightly, and lay them into a mutoir or frying- 
pan; pour over them four ounces of melted butter; salt and pepper in 
quantity to suit the taste. Cover the pan closely, put it over a quick fire, and 
fry a delicate brown on both sides. When well browned — but not too dark — 
drain off most of the butter; dredge over the chicken half an ounce of flour; 
mingle it all well with the chicken, and then pour over a pint of sweet cream. 
Shake the sautoir or frying-pan, for a while, to mingle all well together, and 
prevent burning; then cover closely, and let it stew slowly for ten minutes. 
When done, take up the chicken neatly, and put into a hot platter; put half 
a ta)>lesi)oonful of butter, and half the juice of a lemon to the gravy in the 
frying-pan; shake M'ell over the fire, and then pour over the ciiickens. Dress 
with finely-chopped parsley, and serve hot. 

We give here a recipe for chili-colorad, which we tasted once in one of the 
surprisingly good restaurants when passing the most desolate of all places, 
the alkali plains, which one must pass across in going from Omaha to Vir- 
ginia City or overland to California. 

CHILI-COLORAD. 

Cut up two chickens as if for stewing. When well done, either by steam- 
ing in a close "receiver" or by stewing, chop up and add a little green 
parsley and a few onions. While this is cooking, take half a pound or large 
red pepper-pods; take out all the seeds, and cover the pods with boiling 
water. Let them cook till quite tender; then pour off all the water, and rub 
the pods in a sieve until all juice is extracted; add the juice to the chicken, 
and let it all cook together half an hour, and while it is cooking prepare 
some rice. Have it well cooked; add a little butter, flour and salt; stir it 
till all is mixed. Lay the chicken on a platter or deeper dish, and piling a 
border of rice round it, send to the table hot. 

This dish should be eaten in cold weather. By boiling the pepper-poda 
first, the intensely fiery part of the pepper is removed, and the preparation 
is very nice. 

PILAU. 

Cut up a chicken as for fricassee; put it into a kettle with the liver, giz- 
zard, heart and a slice or two of bacon; cover with boiling water; season 
with pepper and salt, and leave it to stew slowly till quite tender; then take 
it from the pot, without the water in which it was stewed, and set where it 
will keep hot. Wash half a pint of rice, and boil it in the broth made from 
the chicken. There should be one pint of it. If there is not that quantity, 
add some boiling water; cover close, and boil till the rice has absorbed the 
broth ; then uncover, and let the rice dry a few minutes. Serve on a platter, 
■with the chicken placed on the rice. 



492 POULTRY. 

CHICKEN PUDDING. 
Dress carefully and cut up neatly into small pieces; lay them in a sauce- 
pan or kettle with a little boiling water; season with salt and pepper. Roil 
slowly till quite tender, then take it up, with what little liquor remains, and 
put into a pudding-dish. Have ready one quart of green corn, grated or cut 
fine (canned corn must answer for winter at the North, but not half so good). 
Add to this three well-beaten eggs and one pint of sweet cream or rich milk. 
Season with more salt and pepper, if needed, and pour this mixture over the 
chicken; dredge thickly with flour, lay on bits of butter, and bake till done. 
This is very nice. 

FRICASSEED CHICKEN. 

Cut up two chickens weighing two and a half pounds each. See that they 
are neatly jointed, not torn and mangled. Sprinkle the pieces with two tea- 
spoonfuls of salt, one-third of a teaspoonful cayenne pepper, half teaspoonful 
mace, one-third of a grated nutmeg. Put one pint cold water into a kettle, lay 
in the chickens, skin side down. Slice one onion over tliem, cover closely, and 
let them simmer until done. Then take out the chickens piece by piece with 
a fork; arrange neatly on the platter, and set it where they will keep hot 
while the gravy is being made. There should be nearly a pint of it in the 
kettle, Eub one and a half ounce of flour into two ounces of butter very 
smoothly; add a few drops of the broth, if needed, to soften, and make them 
rub smooth and free from lumps. When very smooth, stir it into the gravy, 
and let it boil two or three minutes, stirring constantly; then pour in two 
gills of cream. Meanwhile, the yolks of four eggs should be beaten very 
light. As soon as the cream which has been added to the gravy boils up, 
pour all the gravy over the Avell-beaten yolks ; return instantly to the kettle ; 
letit get again thoroughly hot, without boiling, and pour at once over the 
hot chickens, and serve instantly. 

ANOTHER EXCELLENT FRICASSEE. 

Cut up two chickens, neatly ; lay- them skin downward into a kettle ; add a 
grated onion, a very little thyme and sweet marjoram ; pepper and salt to 
taste; cover closely and let them simmer, not boil, until tender; then take 
up; keep hot. Rub three even teaspoonfuls of flour very smooth into a 
piece of butter as big as a lai'ge egg, and stir into the gravy; and, if relished, 
sprinkle in a little mace and cayenne pejiper. When it has simmered 
enough to cook the flour, pour in a gill and a half of rich, sweet cream ; sim- 
mer a moment or two, and add the yolks of four well-beaten eggs. Pour 
over the hot chickens, and serve at once. 

This last part of the fricassee must not be prepared until the rest of the 
dinner is being put on the table, and should be made with great care, as 
-directed, to prevent its curdling. 



POULTRY. 493^ 

CHICKEN PATE. 

First put a half ounce of Cooper's isinglass to soak. Cut up a chicken 
carefully, cover it with cold water, and let it siniiuer till the meat slips 
easily from the bones. Plave ready half a dozen hard-boiled eggs. After 
taking out the bones, cut the chickens in thin slices. Return the bones, alter 
pounding or breaking them, to the broth in the kettle, and let them simmer 
to enrich the jelly. Wet a plain mold and lay all round it neatly thin 
slices of lemon or orange and egg; then, seasoning the meat with a little 
salt, pepper and mace or nutmeg, fill the mold with the meat and slices of 
egg, and now and then add small bits of nice boiled ham or bacon, ;ind 
slices of lemon or orange. See that the gravy is well seasoned; add the 
isinglass to the gravy as soon as dissolved ; stir all well together, and pour over 
the chicken. Cover the mold with a crust or tin cover, and bake in a 
moderate oven three-quarters of an hour. To be eaten cold. Three eggs 
will answer. Half a dozen are better. One lemon or orange is quite enough. 
Sliced mushroom, if liked, and a few slices of boiled red beet, may also be 
used. 

CORN AND CHICKEN. 

Several delicious dishes can be made by combining corn with other ingre- 
dients in the form of stews or racjouts. An exceedingly nice dish of corn and 
ohicken may be made as follows: Prepare a chicken as for a fricassee, by 
carefully removing the feathers and entrails, and cutting it in joints; fry it 
light-brown in a little butter, add a quart of milk and the grains cjt from a 
dozen ears of corn; season the stew with salt and pepper, and cook it slowly 
for half an hour; serve it hot with small pieces of toast or bread fried ia 
hot fat. 

STEWING CHICKENS WHOLE. 

Clean a chicken as for roasting — a large one, if plump and tender, makes 
the finest-looking dish. See that it is very thoroughly washed, rinsing it in 
several waters, and watcli very closely that the gall has not been broken or 
any impurity left inside. Then wipe dry with a clean napkin, and rub 
pepper and salt inside and out. Take from their liquor as many fine, 
large oysters as the chicken will hold, remove every particle of shell that 
may have adhered, drain very dry in a colander, and fill the chicken quite 
plump with the oysters. Sew up and skewer it tightly. Then put it into 
a pail, without any water, large enough to hold it without crowding or 
spoiling the shape. See tliat the cover fits perfectly. Put this pail in which 
the chicken is, into a large pot of boiling water, and let it boil till the chicken 
is quite tender. Then remove to a hot platter, cover closely as soon as out 
of the pail, so that the air need not touch it, and set it into the oven, with 
the door open, or some place where it will keep hot. Then turn out the 



494 POULTEY. 

gravv that has been made from steaming into a small pan, add one table- 
spoonful of butter and half a teaeup of rich, thick cream, the yolks of three 
hard-boiled eggs, chopped or mashed very iine, a little tinely -minced parsley, 
and a tablespoonful of corn-starch, stirred smooth, like cream in cold milk. 
Let this boil up once thoronghly, then pour over the chicken, and send to 
the table very hot. 
This is a very nice dish, and not troublesome to prepare. 

WHITE SAUCE FOR CHICKENS AND GAME. 

Boil an onion in a pint of milk till it is like a jelly; then strain, and stir 
into the boiling milk sifted bread-crumbs, enough to make it like thick 
cream when well beaten. Beat while boiling, and season with salt, black 
and cayenne pepper, and a little nutmeg. 

TO STEAM A CHICKEN. 

Eub the inside of a well-cleaned chicken with pepper and half a teaspoon- 
ful of salt; put into a steamer and set over boiling w.nter, as near to the 
water as the steamer will fit in. Steam an hour and a half, taking care to 
keep the steamer tightly covered, and see that the water docs not boil away. 
When done, take np into the platter, and keep hot while you are preparing 
the dressing, as follows: Take one pint of gravy from the kettle, without, 
any fat, add cayenne pepper, half teaspoonful of salt; stir six tablespoonfuls 
of flour into a quarter of a pint of cream until quite smooth and free of 
lumps, then stir it into the gravy; or use corn-starch instead of flour, and, 
if liked, grate in a little nutmeg and celery-salt. 

TO STEW A DUCK. 

Pick out all the pin-feathers, and clean with great care; cut in pieces, 
taking pains to joint it neatly; tlien brown it a little in hot butter and salt 
pork-drippings; add one teaspoonful of chopped onion, one clove, one stick 
of celery, one sage-leaf, and a small sprig of parsley; cover with boiling 
water and stew very slowly and gently two hours. When half done, season 
with salt and pepper. 

Keep the sauco-pan closely covered, adding a very little boiling water, if 
needed, occasionally. Then take out each piece separately except the gib- 
lets, and arrange neatly on a hot platter. Chop the giblets very tine; mix 
one teaspoonful of butter and three of flour with them while chopping, and 
put all into the gravy. Squeeze in a little lemon-juice; stir; then pour this 
gravy over the duck. Garnish the sides of the dish with bits of clearly- 
bi-owned and buttered toast cut into fancy shapes, and a few sprig-s of 
parsley. Serve with currant-jelly. 



POULTRY. 495 

TO MAKE GRAVIES FOR POULTRY OR MEAT. 

To make gravy, for meat or poultry, many remove them, wlien done, from the 
bake-pan, and set where they will be kej)t hot; then pour a little water into 
the pan, and when it boils wet to a paste a spoonful or two of flour and stir 
to the boiling water, and then season with salt and pepper. But tiiis make.s 
a poor gravy, we think. Try what seems a better way: Drain off most of 
the liquor from the pan, which is left from basting, leaving only the richest 
part; set the pan over the fire, and as soon as it boils up sift in from the 
<lrcdging-box slowly what flour is needed. That will depend upon the taste 
for thick or thin gravy. Be careful tiiat the fire is not fierce cnougli to 
scorch it. Let it simmer a few minutes till the flour is saturated with the 
gravy before stirring at all, then begin gently to mix it — free from lumi)s — 
till perfectly smooth and of a ri(;h brown. If the giblets, chopped fine, are 
liked in the gravy, stir them in, and also gradually the water in which tliey 
were boiled, which must be boiling hot. Stir all the time till well blended 
and smooth; if not enough liquid, add as much boiling water as is needed. 

In this way one secures a rich, smooth, brown gravy, which has a fine body 
to it, instead of a thin, watery compound without flavor, and less digestible 
because more greasy. 

TO STEW OLD FOWLS OR BIRDS. 

Old birds or fowls are best stewed. Clean thoroughly, and let them re- 
main fifteen or twenty minutes in cold water, to draw out the blood. About 
five minutes before taking them from the water, throw in one or two tea- 
spoons of soda, and wash again, to remove any strong odor or taste then; 
rinse off thoroughly, and fill plump with dressing to suit the taste; and tie 
each bird into a good shape. Lay some thin slices of salt pork, that have 
soaked fifteen or twenty minutes in cold water, on the bottom of the kettle, 
or soup-digester, which is better; then put on the birds, packing them closely, 
breasts uppermost, and put a very thin slice of salt pork on the breast of 
each. Cut in a few slices of carrot, one small stalk of celery, a very little 
chopped onion, and a teaspoonful of sugar. Pour enough boiling water over 
all to cover them completely, and cover closely; cook them till tender and 
tlie water nearly boiled away. If it boils out before the birds are tender 
enough, more boiling water must be added. 

When tender, season with pepper and salt ; but as they are cooked with 
salt pork, be careful not to add salt till you taste, and then add but a little 
at a time. Lay each bird on a slice of well-buttered toast; and set to keep 
hot till the gravy is made. Wet a teaspoonful of corn-starcli in milk, or a 
little browned flour. When a thin paste, stir in half a teacup of milk and 
pour it to the gravy. Let it boil up a minute, and pour over the birds. 

Or, instead of the slices of pork, cut the pork in narrow strips, and, after 



496 POULTRY. 

soaking a few minutes in cold water, draw the strips through the breasts of 
the birds with a " larding needle," put them into the oven and bake till a 
golden brown, sprinkling over a little flour, and basting them occasionally. 
When brown, invert a saucer on the bottom of tlie kettle or digester, to pre- 
vent the gravy scorching, and pack the birds close together on it, pour in all 
the liquor in the bake-pan and add the vegetables, and proceed as first di- 
rected. About twenty minutes before they are done, remove the cover and 
put a few small bits of butter over the birds. Sift flour all over them, pour 
on a teacup of rich cream, add the pepper and what salt may be needed,, 
cover again closely, and cook slowly for a half hour, then take up. There 
should have been enough flour sprinkled over them to make the gravy thick 
enough, but, if not, wet up a little in milk and put to the gravy, first remov- 
ing the saucer at the bottom, let it boil five minutes, stirring constantly j 
then pour over the birds and serve hot. 

CHICKEN LIVERS. 

Chicken livers will be found to make a nice side-dish. First fry half an 
onion in butter. Be careful and not let it scorch. When the onion is 
nearly done, put in a slice of salt pork, cut thin, having first washed it well 
in cold water. When the pork is half done, put in the livers, cover the 
frying-pan closely, and cook slowly till well done and of a delicate brown; 
season with pepper and salt, then take out the livers and arrange neatly on 
some evenly-cut slices of buttered-toast. Shake some flour into the frying- 
pan on the drippings; let it boil up till the flour is fully saturated, but not 
scorched. Pour a little boiling water into the pan as soon as the flour is 
cooked, season with salt and pepper, and let it boil till it thickens ; then pour 
through a strainer over the livers. Put a border of rice and a few sprigs of 
parsley round the livers, and, if you choose, ornament with some hard-boiled 
eggs cut in half quarters, not in slices. It is worthless if not eaten hot. 

A BONED TURKEY. 

Choose a fat turkey — a hen-turkey is thought best — not too tender, or the 
skin will tear easily ; and, to prevent that, the bird should be dry picked, not 
scalded. Usually the legs and wings are cut off, because to keep them on 
and bone them takes more time than they are worth, unless the turkey is 
designed for an especially grand occasion or one has a French cook in the 
house who takes pleasure in the work. With a thin, narrow and very sharp 
knife, such as are made expressly for boning, cut the skin down the back ; 
then with the aid of this knife and careful fingers, little by little separate 
tlie skin from the meat, if possible, and remove the skin whole. After 
a little practice, one can acquire skill sufficient to pass the knife between 
the skin and the body and take out the carcass whole. That is, howeveri. 



POULTRY. 497 

of very little importance, as the meat must all be cut up after it is re- 
moved ; but keep the breasts as unbroken as possible. 

Chop a pound of lean veal and two slices of Ihick, sweet, salt pork (about 
one quarter of a pound), adding to it all the available bits of the turkey 
except the breast. Season with salt, very little savory and chopjted })ars- 
ley, a little ground cloves, mace and cayenne pepper. Only a little of each 
of these seasonings should be used. When all this is finely chopped, add 
an equal quantity of sausage-meat, and cut three boiled sheep-tongues or 
pickled tongues into small pieces about the size of a chestnut; let them lie 
a short time in vinegar, or while the other ingredients are being made 
ready. The giblets have, of course, been boiling while the turkey was l>eing 
prepared. When ready, cut them also in small pieces, together with a thick 
slice of ham and another slice of pork. Season as above directed, and add 
a pound of truffles if you choose. They are an addition that is much 
relished by many, but are expensive, and not really necessary to secure an 
excellent boned turkey. Keep the giblets, etc., separate, from the first ma.ss 
of chopped meat. 

When all is ready, lay the turkey's skin on the molding-board, and spread 
over it part of the chopjied turkey, veal, etc. ; then place part of the breast 
cut in strips, then half the giblets and pork, and over all the remainder ot 
the first preparation of force-meat. Having the inside all arranged, begim 
at one side and roll it tightly into a long roll ; then sew up the skin and! 
wrap it in a towel as closely as possible. Tie the ends very tight, and tie: 
it also twice in the middle to keep it in shape ; then boil it in broth or stock 
four or five hours, adding all the bones and bits of meat left over. When 
first put into the kettle to boil it will sink to the bottom, but rise and float 
■when done. It should be kept constantly covered with the stock, and at no 
time allowed to boil hard. Leave the turkey, when done, in the stock till 
half cold, then take it out and put into a large bowl or form. Lay on a. 
seven-pound weight, and leave it under pressure twenty-four hours, or till 
thoroughly cold and hardened all through. Then take off the towel and 
place it for a few minutes in the oven, leaving the door open, only long 
enough to melt or soften the fat that may have come to the outside by 
reason of the pressure. When it is melted, wipe it dry with a clean towel. 
To look well it should be oval in shape, rounded at the ends; as near the 
size and shape of a well-trussed turkey as possible. 

This is a convenient dish to have in the house, and except that it must be,. 
perforce, a long job, it is not a hard or troublesome one, after a few trials. 
Where one wishes to secure a close resemblance to the turkey, in preparing it 
for some extra occasion, the legs and wings being the most difficult to skin, 
are left on; or by loosening the joint and slitting the wings and legs down 
on the inside, the bones can all be removed, the wings and legs stuffed with 
force-meat in shape, and tied or skewei-ed into the proper positions. But this 



498 POULTRY. 

is no great addition to the looks, and is a much more troublesome operation 
than any part of the work. If the legs and wings, therefore, are cut oft' and 
put into the stock to boil with the turkey, all the substance or richness of 
these parts is secured, and this liquor or stock, after the turkey is taken out 
aud put under pressure, can be reduced full half, then clarified and set to 
«ool till it becomes a clear jelly. When cold, remove every particle of fat 
from the jelly, warm it again just enough to liquefy it, and when the boned 
turkey is removed fi'om the pressure, this can be poured around it, set to 
■cool, and the turkey will be embedded in a beautiful jelly, which can be 
ornamented and made elegant in appearance with very little trouble, or 
the jelly can be used to ornament any other meat that one wishes to deco- 
rate. 

There are many things that can be boned and prepared in the same man- 
ner : capon, duck, goose, hare, lamb, sucking pig, partridge, veal, venison, 
etc., and every thing boned and thus prepared, whether ornamented or plain, 
is called a galantine, or meat freed from bones, tied up in a cloth and boiled* 
and served cold. When hares, rabbits and sucking pigs are made into gal- 
antines, the heads must not be boned, but left on, and kept in as natural a 
state as possible. 

There are various additions that can be made into galantines of every 
kind, according as fancy dictates, and there is no end to the variety of things 
that can be used for the dressing. Hard-boiled eggs, oysters, blanched sweet 
almonds, chestnuts, veal, pistachio-nuts, garlic, bay-leaves, lemon-juice and 
rind, chopped pickles, anchovies, etc. — any or all of these may be judiciously 
used to great advantage, as one feels inclined. 

A galantine of any kind, if carefully made, is a handsome and very con- 
venient dish for any entertainment. They can be *' glazed" — that is, the 
stock can be boiled down till reduced to a jelly, and while yet warm the 
meat washed over with it (put it on with a brush) and dried in a warm oven ; 
or, instead of glazing, it may be sprinkled over with bread-crumbs after tlie 
jelly has been applied, and slightly and quickly browned. 

Odd bits of meat or game can be very economically used for a galantine; 
ami for the skin in which to roll it, a thin rind of salt pork, soaked several 
hours in tepid water to make it pliable, will answer as well. Such scraps, 
made into galantines, are more economical and palatable than if made into 
stews or hashes. If the meat has been cooked, it should be well moistened 
with rich stock, or it will be tough and indigestible. 

OYSTER-STUFFING FOR TURKEY. 

Take a loaf of stale bread, remove all the crust, and soften it with boiling 

water. Drain oft' all the water as soon as softened, and cover closely. When 

well softened, break up very fine the remainder of the loaf, add four tablespoon- 

fuls of melted butter, or twice that quantity if desiring to make it very rich,<i 



POULTRY. 499 

teaspoonful each of pepper and salt, or enough to season highly. Drain off all 
the liquor from a quart of oysters, bring the liquor to a boil, skim and pour 
over tlie bread-crumbs, then add the soaked crusts. Beat in three eggs, if 
plenty — less will do. Mix all thorou^lily together with the hands, and, if 
rather dry, add a little sweet milk. Last of all, add the oysters by first put- 
ting in a spoonful of stuffing, then three or four oysters — being careful not to 
break them; then more stuffing, then oysters, and so on till the turkey is 
filled. The breast should be stufild first, to bring the whole into good 
shape. 

A turkey will take from one and a quarter to two and a half hours to bake, 
according to the size. With a well and evenly-heated oven a five pound tur- 
key will bake in an hour and twenty-five minutes. 

CURRIED FOWL. 

Curries should always be made of wliite meats; fowl, rabbit, veal, and pork 
are all suiiable. The great secret of making good curries lies in the proper 
frying of the jjowder itself. There are at least thirty varieties of curries as 
made in India; the receipt which we now give is that known as Bombay 
curry, and is an exact translation of a receipt dictated by a native cook, with 
the exception of the substitution of butter for the preparation which is used by 
Indian cooks, and called ghi, and which is, in reality, only melted butter: Cut 
the fowl into pieces, separating each joint of the limbs and wings, and wipe 
them thoroughly dry. Take two large onions and a clove of garlic; cut the 
onions into slices and place them with the garlic and a quarter of a pound of 
butter in a frying-pan; sprinkle them well with curry-powdcr, and shake the 
pan frequently while they fry. When they are thoroughly brown, remove the 
contents of the frying-pan to a stew-pan, place the fowl in it, and then make 
a thick gravy by mixing half a breakfast-cupful of flour with water, and 
stirring it into the frying-pan until it is perfectly smooth, adding water or 
stock, as required. When you have a perfectly smooth sauce, strain it on to 
the fowl; squeeze into it the juice of half a lemon; add salt and a pinch of 
cayenne pepper; add half an apple, pared and cored; place the stew-pan by 
the side of the fire and let it cook very slowly for an hour, shaking it now 
and again; before serving, add a teaspoonful of curry-powder, mixing it first 
with a little water or stock, and taste to see if more lemon-juice would im- 
prove it. 

TO BOIL RICE FOR CURRY. 
Rice for curry should be boiled perfectly dry, or so that each grain is sep- 
arate. The best way to accomplish this is very simple. Put a large cup- 
ful of rice into a sauce-pan nearly full of water, let it boil as fast as possible, 
leaving the lid off the sauce-pan, so that the steam can evaporate rapidly. 
When it has boiled nearly dry, shake the sauce-pan, and, as soon as all the 



500 POULTRY. 

water has been absorbed, drain the rice into a colander; shake it well and 
place it over a perfectly dry sauce-pan near the fire. In a few minutes every 
grain will be separated; then turn it lightly into a vegetable dish, unless you 
wisli to garnish the curry with it. The proper way is to serve in separate 
dishes, and to help the rice first, placing the curry upon it. The fowl or 
meat curried should be so tender that it can be eaten with a spoon. Knives 
are never used in eating curry in India. 

CHICKEN PIE. 

Chicken pie is one of the things in Avhich epicures especially delight. Take 
four good-sized fat chickens, cut up all the joints, wash them thoroughly 
and put into a two-gallon kettle with just water enough to cover them; boil 
slowly and skim nicely. When tender, throw in a tablespoonfulof salt and a 
piece of butter as large as a coffee-cup. Take out the chicken, and stir up 
four spoonfuls of flour in a tea-cup of cold water, and drop into the liquid 
that the chickens were boiled in. Stir it well, and let it boil about five min- 
utes, then remove from the fire. Take two quarts of sifted flour and a lump 
of lard the size of a coffee-cup. Kub the lard thoroughly with the flour, 
then take two coffee-cupfuls of sour cream, add half a teaspoonful of soda 
dissolved in two spoonfuls of water; stir up quickly and knead lightly. But- 
ter a six-quart tin pan, and roll out the crust half an inch thick and cover 
the dish inside. Now place the chicken in the dish, packing it closely, pour iu 
enough of the soup to fill the pan within a half-inch of the top of the rim, 
Eoll out another crust and spread over the top, pinching it down tightly 
round the rim of the pan. Now cut out from the remnant of the dough 
a scalloped edge, and bind around; cut a ventilator in the center of the pie,, 
and spread a paper over the top so it will not scorch, and bake two hours. 

E0A8T DUCK. 
A young tame duck stuffed with a bread stuflling, seasoned with salt, pep- 
per, sage and a small piece of onion, is a dish that often appears upon the 
tables of our Southern families, and is well liked. But Northerners, as a rule, 
do not take kindly to the dish, owing to its peculiar flavor, and also to the 
fact of the bird being usually stuffed with onions and red pepper. Grate suf- 
ficient bread to fill the bird; moisten it with milk, and season with salt, pep- 
per, sweet marjoram and the grated rind of one lemon ; add a tablespoonful of 
butter, and bind the mixture with yolk of egg; add a few raw whole oysters, 
if desired. Serve with apple fritters or apple-sauce. 

CHICKEN CROQUETTES. 
Have ready a coffee-cupful of cold chicken, either roast or boiled, and 
chopped to the most complete fineness. Take a piece half the size of an egg^ 



VEGETABLES. 501 

of the best butter, and let it heat to bubbling point over the fire. Stir into it 
a spoonful of tnilk and enough flour to make it of the consistency of drawn- 
butter sauce. Then, when tlioroughly cooked, add a beaten egg and the 
chopped cliicken, and pepper and salt to taste. Spread it out on a platter to 
the thickness of a little less than an inch Let it get cold. Then, when 
wanted, form the croquettes with the hands, dip them in cracker-crumbs, and 
fry in hot lard. A wire basket which can be dipped into the lard is good to 
fry croquettes in. This receipt can be used for any kind of cold meat or poul- 
try; also for lobster. The mixture must be moist. The quantities given 
above will make enough croquettes for a moderate-sized family. 



VEGETABLES. 

GREEN CORN. 

The colored cooks of the South believe that green corn is much more 
v?holesome and nutritious when cooked with the husks on; it is certainly 
much sweeter than when entirely stripped of its covering. Select full ears, 
but see that the grains are tender and full of milk; strip off the outer husks 
and remove all the silk; put the corn into a pot of boiling water and boil 
it fast until tender, about twenty minutes; then drain the ears and serve 
them in a covered dish or folded in a napkin. Before eating, each ear 
should be buttered and seasoned with pepper and salt. When hot corn is not 
served on the cob the grains should be seasoned with salt and pepper, mixed 
■with butter, and heated before they are placed on the table. 

SUCCOTASH. 

Cut the grains from ten full-grown tender ears of corn, mix them with 
one quart of shelled Lima beans, boil them until tender in plenty of well- 
salted boiling water, and then drain them in a colander; meantime, beat 
two eggs smooth, put them into a sauce-pan with the succotash and two 
tablespoonfuls of butter, season it to taste with salt and pepper, and heat it 
thoroughly; serve it in a covered dish. 

A cup of sweet cream is sometimes used instead of the eggs and butter, or 
a small piece of salt pork or bacon is boiled in the succotash. 

CREAMED SUCCOTASH. 

First put three gills of fresh Lima beans in just enough boiling water to 
cover them. The water should be salted before the beans are put in, to keep 



502 VEGETABLES. 

the color. Boil till quite tender and soft; then add the corn, season with 
pepper and salt; add a tablespoonful of butter and a cup of cream or rich 
milk. If milk, more butter will be needed; stir all together till the cream is 
quite hot, but do not let it boil; then serve. 

TOMATO-SAUCE. 

A pint of canned or cooked tomatoes, with one clove of garlic and a small 
onion sliced and fried, two stalls of parsley, one of thyme, a bay-leaf, a 
clove, six peppercorns, and salt to the taste. Boiled till reduced about one- 
third, then mash gently through a fine colander. 

DRIED SWEET CORN. 

Boil the corn as directed in the receipt for hot corn ; as soon as it can be 
handled, take off the husks and cut the grains from the cobs with a sharp 
knife. Spread them on a sheet of cotton batting, and dry them in the mouth 
of a cool oven or in the hot sun. When the corn is thoroughly dry, put it 
in paper bags and keep it in a dry place. When wanted for use, soak it over 
night in water, and then boil it for five minutes in water or milk ; season it 
with salt and pepper, add a little butter, and serve it hot. 

GREEN CORN RAGOUT. 

Cut a pound of fresh pork in pieces an inch square, fry it brown in the 
bottom of a sauce-pan, add to it six large ripe tomatoes peeled and sliced, 
and the grains cut from six ears of corn; cover these ingredients with boiling 
water; season the ragout highly with salt, pepper-and sweet red pepper, and 
cook it slowly for half an hour; serve it hot with toast or fried bread. 

Ham or bacon cut in half-inch dice and fried may be substituted for the 
pork in the above dish. In fact, corn cooked in combination with any meat, 
and highly seasoned, makes a palatable dish. 

BAKED BEANS. 
Soak a pint and a half of dried beans over night. In the morning pour 
off the water, cover with fresh water, and boil till they crack open or are 
tender. Then put them with the water in which they were boiled into a 
deep earthen dish, adding a little salt, and, if agreeable, a tablespoonful of 
molasses. Put on top of the dish one-half pound of fat and lean pork, which 
should be scored or gashed across the rind. Bake four hours, and longer if 
convenient. It will be better for it, only bake slowly. Keep nearly covered 
with water till two-thirds done, then allow it to dry away. 

STEWED CABBAGE. 

Cut up a firm, brittle cabbage as if for cold slaw. Boil in water twentj 
minutes. Then drain quite dry and cover with rich milk. Cover closely^ 



VEGETABLES. 503 

ami boil until tender. SeaRon to please the taste with butter, pepper and 
salt, and, when ready to serve, add the yolk of a beaten egg mixed with a 
few spoonfuls of sweet, tliick cream. 

In cooking it with the milk, be careful and not use too much milk, so that 
when done it will be swimming in it. 

SPINACH. 

Pick over carefully, rejecting all decayed leaves, and wash in a large pail 
three times, then put it into an iron pot with no water except what adheres 
lo it; as you drain it from the last rinsing, sprinkle over a little salt, cover 
closely, and set where it will cook without scorching. Let it cook twenty or 
thirty minutes, till quite tender — can not give the exact time, as that depends 
on the juiciness of the stalks and leaves. When done, add butter and pepper, 
take it out in a perforated mold, if you have one— if not, in a colander — and 
place over the pot to drain; cover closely to keep it hot while draining. 
Have two tablespoonfuls of cream put where it will get hot, and some hard 
boiled eggs, ready sliced. When well drained, put into a hot vegetable dish, 
Htir in the hot cream, place the slices of egg over the toji and serve hot; or it 
may be put dry into a bain marie, or, if you have none, into a dish of hot 
water. When tender, press it dry, and stick bits of butter through it; season 
with salt and pepper, and stew till perfectly cooked. Serve on toast with 
poached eggs. 

STEWED CELERY. 

Break apart and wash very carefully three heads of good celery ; cut ofT the 
green portions, and leave the outside stalks to season soups. Cut the celery 
into pieces an inch long, and put to just enough boiling water to cover them; 
add salt to the water before putting in the celery; boil slowly. When tender, 
drain and place neatly on a vegetable dish, sprinkling over it some black 
pepper; pour oflf part of the water, but save it, in case of need, till the stew 
is completed. W^et into a smooth paste a teaspoonful of corn-starch, and 
add the same quantity of flour, two tablespoonfuls of butter and the same 
of rich cream ; stir this into the water, over the fire, till it thickens, and 
then pour over the celery. Tf too thick, add some of the water left over; if 
too thin for your wishes, use more corn-starch after making it into a thin 
paste. «-' 

POTATO NOODLES. 

Grate one dozen boiled potatoes; add to them two well-beaten eggs, a tea- 
spoonful of salt, one-half cup of milk, sufficient flour to make knead, then 
cut in small pieces, and roll long and round, one inch thick, and fry in 
plenty of lard to a nice brown. 



504 VEGETABLES. 

POTATO SOUFFLEE. 

Carefully wash eight large potatoes as nearly of the same size and shape 
as possible. Bake till just done. Do not lot the skin get scorched, only 
iirowncd. When done, take them up, cut each one in halves Avith a thin, 
very sharp knife, so as not to break the skin. Carefully scoop out the in- 
side and rub througli a sieve. Put a tablespoonful of butter and half a cup 
of cream into a sauce-pan and set over the tire. When it boils up, add this 
sifted potato; season with salt and pepper, and, if liked, a few spoonfuls of 
-finely-chopped meat — beef or chicken is the best. As soon as the milk boils 
up, after the potato is added, take it from the lire and add, one at a time, 
the yolks of three eggs, beating each one very thorougbly. Then, ])utting a 
pinch of salt to the whites, beat them to a stift'foam, stir this gently into the 
mixture;, and till the empty potato-skins with it. Stand them up in a bak- 
ing-tin, brush the top with a beaten egg, and set them into the hot oven just 
long enough to heat through, and give the top a clear, golden-brown. Be 
cai-eful not to scorch the top. They should come from the oven light, puffy, 
and of a clear brown. As some may like them better without the meat, 
when preparing for company whose taste you are not sure of, it would be 
"well to have a dish of botii kinds. 

SCALLOPED CAULIFLOWER. 
Soak some bread-crumbs in rich milk if plenty ; if not, water will answer. 
"When perfectly softened, drain or press out all the milk or water. Beat up 
three eggs, and put to the bread-crumbs with two tablespoonfuls of melted 
butter and a tablespoonful of rich cream; season with salt and pepper. 
Turn this into a well-buttered pudding-dish. Break up the cauliflower and 
dip each top in this mixture, and set each piece of cauliflower round in the 
pudding-dish in neat order. Beat up another egg and pour over the top, and 
bake quickly till of a clear-light golden-brown on top. 

sum:mer squash. 

Pick before the seeds have hardened; wash clean and remove all the stems; 
•cut into small pieces, and boil till tender in just water enough to cover. 
Then pour ofl' all the water, mash as line and smooth as possible, and then 
put into a bag and squeeze out all the moisture that remains. Season with 
salt and plenty of butter and pepper, or with rich cream and less butter. 
Cooked in this way you will have no cause for complaint, provided the 
squash is ripe and of a good variety. 

EGG-PLANT. 

To fry egg-plant, peel can^fully ; slice quite thin, and lay the slices to soak 
in salt and water ten or liftoen minutes, then drain, and steam live minutes. 



VEGETABLES. 505 

While Bteaming, make a batter of one pint of milk, two tablespoonfiils of 
melted butter, two well-beaten eggs, one and a half tea,-:poonfuIs of baking- 
powder, and enough flour to make a batter stifl' enough for griddle-cakes. 
Dip the slices into this batter, and fry in hot butter until of a light brown. 
Or dip the slices in a well-beaten egg, and tlien in cracker-crumbs. Be 
careful and wipe each slice dry before dipping into the egg and crumbs. 

ste\vi:d egg-plant. 

Put the whole plant into a pot of boiling water, and stew till tender. 
Then remove the skin, and mash the egg-plant smooth, adding plenty of 
butter and some sweet herbs. Be careful not to use too much of the herbs, 
just enough to give a flavor. Put it into a bake-pan, grate bread over the 
top, and bake in a moderate oven till a nice brown. 

STUFFED EGG-PLANT. 

Parboil the egg-plants ten minutes, split them open lengthwise, and scrape 
out all seeds. Meantime soak some of the soft part of bread in cold water, 
and squeeze out all the water. Put enough butter into a fry-pan to fry a 
small onion. When the butter is hot, chop the onion and put to the hot 
butter. Fry till browned, but not scorched. When done, stir in the bread, 
add salt, pepper, a very little grated nutmeg and some beef-gravy; stir all 
together over the fire a minute, and then remove from the fire. Fill both 
halves of the egg-plant with this mixture, and put them into a bake-pan, the 
stuffing upward. Dust with bread-crumbs, put a teaspoonful of butter on 
the top of each, and bake till brown. 

MUSHROOMS. 

Take ofTthe stems, and put the tops side by side in the bottom of a but- 
tered pan or dish. Put a bit of butter on each, or oil, if preferred. Bake, 
and when done serve on toast, or with a rich sauce of drawn butter, with 
hard-boiled eggs in it. If chopped fine and stewed in milk, they may be 
made into a mushroom omelet, which is very agreeable. 

BAKED TOMATOES. 
Take large smooth tomatoes; wipe them, and cut off carefully a slice from 
the blossom end; take out the seeds, and fill each tomato with a force-meat 
made of bread-crumbs and some salt pork chopped up very fine, and seasoned 
with Durkee's salpicant. Put a bit of butter in each ; fit on the top ; place 
in an earthen dish, and bake slowly from half to three-quarters of an hour, 

MACARONI, WITH TOMATO-SAUCE. 

Melt two tablespoonfuls of butter in a sauce-pan ; put to it one medium- 
sized onion chopped fine, a small piece of celery and a little parsley. Let it 



506 EGGS. 

cook slowly, but oai*efully, lest it scorch, which would spoil all. When the 
onion is delicately brown, put in a pint of canned tomatoes, if in the winter, 
or a quart of fresh tomatoes in their season, and boil for an hour; then 
strain through a tine sieve into a clean sauce-pan, cook until as thick as 
catsup ; season with salt, pepper and butter. This should be all ready be- 
fore cooking the macaroni, but keep gently simmering to keep hot till the 
macaroni is done. 

Put half a pound of well-Avaslicd macaroni into boiling salt water, cook 
twenty minutes, then drain it in a colander. Place a layer of macaroni in a 
hot ilish, then place over it a layer of the tomato-sauce, then another layer 
of macaroni, then a layer of sauce, having the sauce on the last thing. Set 
in the oven for rive minutes, and then serve very hot. 

WELSH KAREBIT. 

Cut up, in thin slices, a quarter of a pound of good, fresh cheese — we mean 
not very old, or much dried ; put it into a "spider" or sauce-pan, and pour 
over it a cotlbe-cupful of sweet milk, stir in a quarter of a teaspoonful of dry 
mustard, a little pepper and salt and a tablcspoonful of butter. Stir this 
mixture all the time while over the lire. Have ready tinely-powdered I'oston 
crackers, and sprinkle them in gradually while the cheese and milk are 
cooking. As soon as they are stiiTed in, take the sauce-pan from the tire, and 
turn the contents into a hot dish and serve immediately. 

BAKED IRISH POTATOES, * 

Boil some good Irish potatoes; when done, mash, season with salt, pepper 
and butter ; mince a large onion tine, mix well through the potatoes, put in 
oven and brown nicely. 

RINGED POTATOES. 

Peel large Irish potatoes, cut them round and round in shavings as you 
peel an apple. Fry with clean, sweet lard in a frying-pan till brown, stir- 
ring so as to brown all alike, drain on a sieve, sprinkle fine salt over them, 
and serve. 



EGGS. 

To beat eggs in the right way is a matter of more real importance than one 
would at fii-st imagine. No cake, pie, pudding or dressing requiring eggs 
can be made in perfection, even when every thing else is done exactly right. 



EOGS. 507 

and the materials are of the very best quality, unless the eggs are fresh and 
])roperly prepared. 

It is often found difficult to beat eggs in cold weather as light as is desir- 
able, and often quite indispensable; but put them into warm water — not hot, 
by any means — for a few minutes, and the difficulty vanishes, and the egga 
can be beatenf as easily and firmly as in warm weather. Wipe each egg 
quite dry when taken from the water before breaking the shell; for if a drop 
of water gets to the whites they will iieat frothy, and can not be made firnj 
and .stiff". Carelessness in this respect may be a cause of failure in many 
cases. The person who is to beat the eggs will often take her hands out of 
water, and without wiping them turn to the work next in order — beating 
eggs — and, i)erhaps, break them with the water (it may be perfectly clean) 
dripping oil' her hands. Or, if the eggs are dirty, she may put them into a 
basin of cold water — a bad practice, for it chills the whites — and take them 
dripping from the water, and without wiping break them, and in separating 
the white from the yolk drops of water will mingle with them. Kcsult: 
frolhy instead of firm whites, and heavy cake in consequence. We have 
also seen eggs broken into a wet plate, in which a drop or two of water re- 
mained, and no beating could make the whites firm, and all in the kitchen 
were in a state of groat surprise. What can be the matter with these eggs? 

Yolks of eggssliould be beaten first, because they require less time to beat 
light, and can stand a short time after beating without going back. If one 
has not a regular egg-beater, a broad three-tined silver or plated fork is the 
best. 

Yolks of eggs should be beaten until they turn from their natural orange 
color to a light straw color. In beating both yolks and whites, a quick, sharp 
stroke is necessary, so that the egg will fall over with a thick, soft sound, 
growing firmer and stifler with every stroke. If carelessly beaten, they will 
be of a coarse, frothy texture, instead of a thick cream-like consistency. 
Whatever they are to be used for, the whites must be beaten the last thing. 
If more than one or two are required, break and beat them in a large 
shallow bowl. Beat with a quick firm stroke, cutting through to the bottom 
from side to side. In this way the eggs will gradually become smooth, then 
thick, until, as the beating progresses, they will fall over the beater or fork in 
quick evolutions as if only one closely-knit body. Continue the beating 
until the whites are so firm and dry that the bowl may be turned bottom-side 
upwards without the contents running out or falling asunder. 

A NICE WAY TO COOK EGGS. 

Pour boiling water into a basin, set it on the hearth of the stove, or on the 
tank, and put the eggs into it; let them remain in it for five minutes; the egg 
will be cooked enough to be delicious, it will digest easily, and in this way 
the wonderful elements which go to make up the egg are best preserved. 



50S EGGS. 

When done, break and drop on slices of buttered-toast, or pnt in egg-cups in 
which you have first put a little lump of butter. 

TO BOIL EGGS. 

The best wav to boil eggs is not to boil them at all. Put them in a tin 
dish, and pour on them boiling water; cover the dish tight, and set back 
■where the water will merely keep hot; let it stand from ten to fifteen 
minutes, according to the size of the eggs, or to the preference of the eater 
for "hard" or "soft." The effect is quite diflereut from that produced by 
boiling, both the flavor and texture of the egg being so superior to any other 
way of cooking by means of hot water that those who have tried it will 
hardly be likely to return to the old way, 

ITALIAN MODE OF COOKING EGGS. 

Moisten two spoonfuls of flour with four ounces of butter, in a sauce-pan, 
stirring constantly. "When of the consistency of thick butter, tliin with a 
little boiling milk, and season with pepper and salt. Add three ounces 
more of butter and a little chopped parsley, worked well together. Have 
ready eight h:u-d-boiled eggs, sliced, and add them to the sauce, and serve hot^ 

SCRAIMBLED EGGS. 

Take a piece of butter the size of an egg, one-third of a tea -cup of cream, a 
small half-tcaspoonfiil of salt, warm together in a frying-pan, have six ecg-s 
broken into a dish, but not beaten, pour them into the pan, and stir briskly 
until slightly cooked; if the fire is too hot or they cook too long, they wilj 
be tough and leathery. Serve immediately in a hot covered dish. The cream 
may be omitted, if desired. 

ElTklBLED EGGS. 
This is very convenient for invalids, or a light dish for supper. Beat up 
three eggs with two ounces of fresh butter, or well-washed salt butter; add a 
teaspttonful of cream or new milk. Put all in a sauce-pan, and keep stirring 
it over the fire for nearly five minutes, until it rises up like soufilee, when it 
should be immediately dished on buttered toast. 

FRICASSEED EGGS. 

Six hard-boiled eggs, when cold, slice witli a sharp knife, taking care not 
to break the yolk; one cup good broth, well seasoned with popper, salt, parsley 
and a suspicion of onion; some rounds stale bread, fried to a light brown in 
butter or nice dripping. Put the broth on the fire in a sauce-pan with the 
seasoning, and let it come to a boil. Rub the slicas of egg with melted 
butter, then roll them in flour. Lay them gently in the gravy, and let thie 



EQGS. 509 

become smoking hot upon the side of the range; but do not let it actually 
boil, lest the eggs should break. They should lie thus in the gravy for at 
least five minutes. Have ready, upon a platter, the fried bread. Lay the 
sliced egg evenly upon tliis; pour the gravy over all, aud serve hot. 

STUFFED FGGS. 

Boil them hard, cut them in two, remove the yolks, and beat them up 
with a little grated ham, parsley, pepper and salt to taste; replace this mix- 
ture within the whites, cut the under part a little so as to make them stand 
well on the dish, and serve with white sauce. 

MEDICINAX, USE OF EGGS. 
For burns or scalds, nothing is more soothing than the white of an egg, 
which may be poured over the wound. It is softer, as a varnish for a burn, 
than collodion, and being always at hand can be applied immediately. It 
is also more cooling than the "sweet oil and cotton," which was formerly 
supposed to be the surest application to allay the smarting pain. It is the 
contact with the air which gives the extreme discomfort experienced from 
ordinary accidents of this kind, and any thing which excludes air and pre- 
vents inflammation is the thing to be at once applied. The egg is also con- 
sidered one of the best remedies for dysentery. Beaten up slightly with or 
without sugar, and swallowed, it tends by its emollient qualities to lessen the 
inflammation of the stomach and intestines, and by forming a transient 
coating on those organs to enable nature to resume her healthful sway over 
the diseased body. Two, or at most three eggs per day, would be all that is 
required in ordinary cases; and since the egg is not merely medicine, but 
food as well, the lighter the diet otherwise and the quieter the patient is kept, 
the more certain and rapid is the recovery. 

OMELET. 

Measure out one tablespoonful of milk for each egg to be used, and as 
much butter, pepper and salt as will season to your taste. Beat the eggs 
separately very stiff"; add the yolks to the milk, butter, etc., beating them 
well together; lastly, add the whites. Stir well, and turn into a hot, buttered 
sauce-pan. Do not let it get hard, but roll the mixture in the pan, leaving 
it moist in the middle. It takes but a few minutes to cook ; overdone, it will 
be hard and indigestible. 

PLAIN OMELET. 

Beat yolks of six eggs and the whites of three till they are very light; 
take one tea-cup of cream, if you can get it (milk will answer); mix with 
it very smoothly one tablespoonful of flour; add salt and pepper as you please j 



510 PASTRY. 

heat your frying-pan, and melt in it a large spoonful of butter; when hot, 
pour the eggs and cream in, and set in a quick oven. When it is thick 
enough — which is a matter of taste — pour over it the whites of three eggs, 
which are beaten to a stiff froth. Let it brown slightly, and then slip it out 
in a hot dish ; this must be done very carefully, so that the whites of the 
eggs will be on the top. This dish may be varied by beating the six eggs all 
together, and then adding the cream, etc. A good rule as to quantity is to 
use one egg for a person. 

BAKED OMELET. 
Beat the yolks of six eggs till foamy, and stir them into a cup and a half 
of sweet milk, a little salt and pepper, and a tablespoonful of flour rubbed 
smooth in a little cold milk ; lastly, add the whites beaten very stiF. Pour 
all into a hot, buttered pan, and let it boil until it thickens, stirring all the 
time. As soon as it is thickened, pour into an omelet or baking dish, and 
brown in a quick oven. 

CHEESE OMELET. 

Butter the sides of a deep dish, and cover with thin slices of rich cheese. 
Lay over the cheese thin slices of well-buttered bread, first covering the 
cheese with a little red pepper and mustard ; then another layer of cheese. 
Beat the yolk of an egg in a cup of cream (milk will do), and pour over the 
dish, and put at once into the oven. Bake till nicely brown. Serve hot, olr 
it will be tough, hard and worthless. 



PASTRY. 

APPLE-CUSTAKD PIE, 

Three cupfuls of stewed and strained apples, into which beat one cupful 
of sugar— or, if the apples are very sour, add more sugar; six eggs, beaten 
very stiff, and then beat it also with the apple, which, by the way, must be 
eet aside to cool before adding any thing. Season with nutmeg and very lit- 
tle clove, and stir in, the last thing, slowly, one quart of new milk. Bake 
immediately. If left to stand a few minutes the sour apples will curdle the 
milk. Only a bottom crust will be needed. 

Another Fa?/.— Grate twelve large sour apples. Sprinkle in an even tea^ 
spoonful of salt, half a nutmeg, a very little cinnamon, and sugar enough to 



PASTRY. 511 

sweeten to your taste. Add three well-beaten eggs, one tablespoonful of but- 
ter, the grated rind of half a lemon, if that flavor is relished, thft juice of one 
orange, and a pint of rich cream, or milk, if cream is not convenient. In that 
case, add half a tablespoonful more of butter. Line the plates with rich paste, 
wliich should be all ready before the cream is put to the apple. Pour in the 
custard, and put strips of crust across the top. Bake a light brown, and sift 
sugar over when done, if liked. If only one pie is wanted, take fewer apples 
and less cream. 

MINCE-PIE. 

Fill a four-gallon porcelain-lined kettle with finely-chopped apples and 
meat — two parts apples and one of meat. Add three pounds of English cur- 
rants, and the same of raisins ; molasses, sugar, and spice to suit the taste. 
Put to this enough cider to moisten it. Let it stand on the stove, to cook 
slowly, till thoroughly cooked ; then put into a stone jar and set in a cool 
place. When pies are made, fill the plate as full as needed, and put pieces 
of butter over each pie. Bake without top-crust; for the top-crust should 
be nice pufiT-paste, and be baked separately, and laid over when the pie is 
done. 

ORANGE-PIE. 

Grate tlie rind of one and use the juice of two large oranges; beat the yolk.s 
of four eggs very light into two tablespoonfuls of butter and one heaping cup 
of sugar, and put to the juice; add a little nutmeg. Beat all well together. 
Cover the pie-dish with a thick paste, and pour this mixture into it, and bake 
in a quick oven; when done so it is like a finely-baked custard, add to the 
whites of the fotir eggs two tablespoonfuls of white sugar and one of orange- 
juice. Cover this over the pie, and set back into the oven till a light brown. 



PUMPKIK-PIE. 

Cut a .solid pumpkin in quarters, remove all the seeds, then bake until soft. 
Pumpkin is much sweeter baked than stewed, and not so watery. When 
done, scrape out all the meat and rub through a colander. To every quart 
of the pumpkin put one quart of rich milk and a cup of rich sweet cream, 
two tablespoonfuls of molasses, and sugar to sweeten to your taste. Mix in a 
teaspoonful of salt, half a teaspoonful of cinnamon, one teaspoonful nutmeg, 
two teaspoonfuls of ginger, and the yolks of three well-beaten eggs. Beat all 
well together, leaving no lumps of spice, and lastly add the whites of the three 
eggs beaten very stifT. Line a deep plate with rich paste, wet the edge and 
lay two strips of the paste around, then fill with the pumpkin and bake till 
you can put a knife-blade in the center without its running. 



512 PASTRY. 

MINCE-PIE WITHOUT WINE OR BRANDY. 

Get four good-sized beef-tongues fresh from the butcher's, soak an liour in 
cold water, then rub in salt and put into boiling water. Let them boil till 
quite tender. Take them up and remove the skin. When cold, chop very 
fine. Chop two pounds of best sweet kidney suet very fine, and while chop- 
ping be careful and free it from any skin or stringy bits. While the tongues 
are boiling — and cooling — let all else that is needed be prepared ready for 
use as follows: 

Take live quarts of sweet cider, right from the mill, if possible. Put it into 
a porcelain-lined kettle that has no crack or flaw in the lining; if not, a thor- 
oughly scoured and clean brass kettle or new tin kettle. Boil the cider down 
to two quarts. Or if you can not get sweet cider, take two quarts of currant 
or grape juice — that which was canned when the fruit was just ripe (if the 
pies are made after fruit season) — one quart of good syrup (maple syrup is 
best), and if you have any syrup left over from spiced sweet pickles, add an 
equal proportion of that. Boil all down at least one-half, or till ropy. Just 
before it has boiled enough, put in two ounces or four tablespoonfuls of 
butter, 

While the syrup is boiling, seed and cut in two as you seed four pounds of 
fine, fresh-looking raisins. Pick over, wash and dry three pounds of currants, 
or, what we much prefer, sultana or stoneless raisins. Slice very thin and cut 
in half-inch pieces, a pound of citron, half a pound of candied orange-peel, 
four quarts of the best tart apples chopped very fine, to be measured after 
chopping. Put this fruit into a large wooden or earthen bowl, add three 
tablespoonfuls of cinnamon, one of cloves, one of ginger, four grated nutmegs, 
if liked, the grated rind of two lemons, one tablespoonful of salt, one teaspoon- 
ful of allspice, and three pounds of sugai', and stir all together. When the 
meat and suet ai-e chopped, put them in with the fruit, and with the hands 
work all together very thoroughly. Add the juice of two lemons and four 
oranges (strained), and mix with this compound, then stir in the boiled syrup. 
If there is too much, so that the meat will be too juicy, bottle it for future 
use. Mix the meat, seasoning and syrup well together, and put all together 
into a perfectly clean porcelain or brass kettle, and let it all boil for twenty 
minutes. Before taking off from the stove, taste and see if more seasoning is 
needed, and add to suit your own taste. 

No brandy or wine can make a better quality of mince for pies than this. It 
will keep for months. Pack in stone jars' and keep in a cool place. When 
perfectly cold, pour molasses over the top so as to thoroughly cover it, and 
cover tightly. 

When needed for pies, take out what is needed for one baking, put a few 
whole raisins into each pie, and hits of butter over the top. Taste and learn, 
if, after standing so long, any more seasoning is needed. If not moist enough. 



PASTRY. 513 

tor by long standing the meat and fruit will have absorbed a large amount 
of tlie liquid, add some of the i-yrup that was bottled, and put aside. It is 
well always to prepare more syrup than seems ueeded at first. 

Beef-tongues are the best for mince pies, but the neck piece will make good 
pies, and is cheajjcr, or seems so, but if one deducts the bones, gristle, and 
slringy parts, it will be seen that the best is usually the most economical ia 
the end. 

Save all syrups from canned fruit, and if a small portion of preserves or 
jelly of any kind is left over it can be used for mince pies to their improve- 
ment, and is an economical way of using remnants that are too small for the 
table. When the mince is first made, if all the remnants left in jars of sweet 
pickles, preserves or jellies, arc gathered together and put into this compound, 
it is a saving, because it will take the place of part of the raisins, candied 
rinds, etc. 

The lean meat left from steak, or a roast chopped fine and freed of all 
gristle and stringy parts, answers very well for mince pies, but we should 
prefer to use all cold meats for breakfast hashes, and buy fresh meat for 
pies. There is nothing saved by using such scraps, but the pies lose a 
good deal. 

Beefs-heart, well boiled, will make an excellent mince for pies, and is not 
as expensive as beefs-tongue. 

CHESS-PIE. 

Beat the yolks of five eggs, very light, with one cup powdered sugar, to a; 
stiff, white foam; then beat, very light, three-fourths of a cup of butter, and 
beat all together till like stifT cream. Get them all combined as quickly as 
possible. Flavor with vanilla or wliatever flavor is most agreeable. Have 
a pie-plate lined with nice crust before preparing the filling, and bake im- 
mediately. A very little delay, after all are beaten together, will ruin the 
pie. It will rise very light. While it is baking, whisk the whites of the 
eggs as stifT as possible, and sweeten with a little sugar, while beating, 
favoring slightly with the same, used in the contents of the pie. As soon as 
baked a delicate brown, spread over the pie the stiff whites, and return to 
the oven, to be very slightly colored. As soon as removed from the oven, 
cut the pie into desirable pieces — for, strange as it may seem, if cut after it is 
cool, it will fall and become heavy. 

CUSTARD-PIE. 

Three eggs beaten well, two-thirds of a coffee-cup of sugar, a pint of sweet 
milk, flavor; add a little butt* after it is poured into the pans. This make» 
two pies. 

DRIED APPLES AND RHUBARB FOR PIES. 

Insipid dried apples may be made quite palatable for pies or sauce hj 

putting about half pie-plant with them. That supplies the acid that the 
33 



514 FUDBINGS. 

apples lack, and it does not take nearly as much sugar for the pie that is 
needed if the plant alone is used, and many people like the pies just as well 
as those made entirely of pie-plant. 

CREAM-PIE. 

Sweeten and flavor one quart of rich cream to suit the ta.'^te, have a plate 
lined with nice crust as for a custard-pie, beat the M'hites of two or three 
eggs very stifT, and stir into the cream, pour into the crust, and bake as long 
as a custard. This pie should stand in a cool place or on ice till perfectly 
cold. 

PUFFS FOR DESSERT. 

Pufls for dessert are delicate and nice; take one pint of milk and cream, 
the whites of four eggs beaten to a stifi' froth, one heaping cup of sifted flour, 
one scant cup of powdered sugar ; add a little grated lemon-peel and a little 
salt: beat these all together till very light, bake in gem-pans, sift pulverized 
sugar over them, and eat with sauce flavored with lemon. 



PUDDINGS. 

ECONOMICAL PUDDING. 

Two well-beaten eggs, one and a half cups of suet, finely chopped, two 
cups raisins, one cup dried whortleberries, four cups flour and one and a half 
cups molasses. Mix all well together, adding the fruit, well floured to pre- 
vent sinking, the last. Salt and spice to taste. One teaspoonful soda thor- 
oughly dissolved added the last thing. Beat well together and boil three 
hours. Eat with boiled sauce or hard sauce. 

BROWN BETTY. 

Scald two tea-cupfuls of bread-crumbs in a tea-cupful of rich milk. Mix 
with them two tea-cupfuls of chopped apples, one cup of sugar, a little 
spoonful of melted butter, a teaspoonful of ground cinnamon and a little 
salt. Bake in a quick oven half an hour, and serve with cream and sugar, 
or a sweet sauce made as follows: Two-thirds of a cup of molasses; fill the 
cup with water; put in butter the size of an egg, and boil five or ten minutes. 

PUFF PUDDING. 
Put the yolks of four eggs to one cup of sugar, and beat them together to 
a froth; put in a scant half-cup of milk, and iust enough flour to make a 



PUDDINGS. 515 

very thin batter, a little nutmeg or vanilla, then lastly add the whites, made 
very stitf. Bake in a quick oven twenty minutes, and eat with hard sauce. 

CREAM PUDDING. 

Beat together half a pint of cream, an ounce and a half of sugar, the 
yolks of three eggs and a little grated nutmeg. Beat the whites stiff, and 
stir in the last thing — stirring lightly. Sprinkle some fine crumbs of stale 
bread over a well-buttered plate, about the thickness of common pastry. 
Pour in the beaten eggs, cream and sugar, and cover the top with more fine 
bread-crumbs and bake. 

FRUIT PUDDING. 
• Half a cup of butter, one egg, beaten with the butter, one cup of molasses, 
one of brown sugar, two-thirds of a cup of milk, one teasiioonful cin- 
namon, one nutmeg, half a teaspoonful of cloves, half a cup of currants, 
half a cup of raisins, well floured, one teaspoonful of yeast-powder, sifted 
in with two and a half cups of flour. Stir the flour in gradually, and beat 
all thoroughly together. Pour into a buttered tin-pan. Set in a steamer 
and steam one hour. 

To be eaten with hard sauce, or any other kind most agreeable. 
In the South the juice of the orange is often used in sauces, and to our 
taste is much to be preferred to lemon. 

CHOCOLATE PUDDING. 

Three tablespoonfuls of sugar, four tablespoonfuls corn-starch. Dissolve 
two and a half tablespoonfuls of grated chocolate in hot water; scald one 
quart of milk by putting it into a boiler over boiling water or in a milk 
boiler. Dissolve the corn-starch in a little scalded milk, and before it 
thickens stir in the dissolved chocolate. Keep all in the boiler, stirring 
constantly, until sufficiently cooked. Use with cream, or a saucer of butter 
and sugar stirred to a cream; or, 

Scald one quart of sweet milk and three ounces of grated chocolate together, 
and when cool add one cup of sugar and the well-beaten yolks of five eggs. 
Beat the whole thoroughly together and bake. When done, spread over it 
the well-beaten whites of five eggs, with five tablespoonfuls of white sugar 
beaten with them, and set in the oven to brown ; or. 

Boil one pint of milk and three ounces or four tablespoonfuls of grated 
chocolate. Add to this half a cup of butter and one cup of sugar. Stir all 
together, and pour over two slices of bread soaked soft in water. When cool, 
add the well-beaten yolks of four eggs; bake, and when done have ready the 
whites of the eggs beaten stiff with four tablespoonfuls of white sugar. 
Spread them over the pudding, and brown in the oven. Serve hot or cold, 
to suit the taste. 



616 PUDDINGS. 

INDIAN PUDDING. 

Pour enough boiling w.ater on two cups of meal to wet it thoroughly; 
then add one-half cup of butter, well beaten with one cup of sugar, to a 
fcream ; two well-beaten eggs, a little salt, two cups of milk, two tablespoonfuls 
of molasses, nutmeg and cinnamon to suit the taste; one tea-cup of stoned 
raisins, slightly chopped; bake slowly three hours. If preferred, use two- 
thirds of a cup of finely-chopped suet instead of butter ; instead of raisins, a 
cup and a half of dried whortleberries are very nice, or two cups of finely- 
chopped sweet apples instead of any other fruit is excellent ; or, 

BAKED INDIAN PUDDING, 

Scald three pints of fresh milk, into which, when hot, stir gradually one 
pint of sifted Indian meal. Don't let it lump when stirred in ; add one tea- 
cup molasses, ginger and salt to suit the taste, and a little chopped suet if 
desired. Bake moderately from six to eight hours. If the meal inclines to 
settle when it begins to bake, stir it up from the bottom a few times. If 
mixed, just right it will not settle. "When done, it should be of a deep red- 
dish color. Or stir into two quarts scalding-hot milk, one cup and a half 
yellow Indian meal, one tablespoonful, or less, of ginger. Let it stand and 
8oak in the scalded milk half an hour; then add one cup molasses, two eggs, 
a piece butter size of a walnut. Bake two hours. This receipt is much im- 
proved with whortleberries or raisins, and, if liked, apples. But with this 
change add a cup of suet cut in small pieces, and all stringy parts removed. 
Or into one pint scalded milk stir a scant half-pint of Indian meal and one 
cup of molasses, stir well, and leave to cool. When cold, add six sweet 
apples, chopped, one cup chopped raisins or whortleberries, one cup suet, 
chopped, teaspoonful salt, one teaspoonf ul of ginger, one of cinnamon. Bake 
four hours, 

BOILED INDIAN PUDDING. 

Scald one quart of sweet milk, and while boiling stir in suflBcient corn- 
meal (yellow is best) to make a thick, but not too stiff batter; add salt to 
taste. Eemove from the fire, and stir till cool. Pick over half a pound of 
beef-suet, removing all that is stringy, cut into pieces the size of a chestnut, 
and stir into the meal when half cooked. Beat two eggs, and add with two 
tablespoonfuls sugar and two of molasses. Season with ginger and cinna- 
mon. Wet the pudding-bag in hot water, flour it, and fill half full with the 
mixture; tie it tight close to to the top of the bag, as the pudding will swell. 
Boil five hours. Dried Avhortleberries added, say two tea-cupfuls, or stoned 
raisins with four sweet apples chopped fine, are a great improvement ; or, if 
a little acid is liked, four sour apples, instead of sweet, chopped fine, would 
make it sufficiently tart. Serve with cream or hard sauce. 



PUDDINGS. 517 

STEAMED APPLE PUDDING. 

Sift with one pint of flour one teaspoonful cream tartar, rub in two table- 
epoonfuls of butter — scant; dissolve half teaspoonful soda in cold milk, and 
«tir into the flour, adding eyough more milk to make the dough too soft to 
roll. Spread one-half of the dough with a spoon over the bottom, and press 
it up the sides of a somewhat shallow dish or pan. Pare and slice three or 
four large, flne-flavored, tart apples, and spread them over the dough. If 
the apples ar^ very acid, a little extra soda will insure greater lightness. 
Cover all with the remaining dough. 

Berry puddings are excellent made in same way, only stir the berries into 
the dough. Steam till fruit and dough are done. To be eaten with any 
sauce that is liked. 

APPLE DUMPLINGS. 

Put into two cups of flour one-half a teaspoonful baking-powder, and sift 
them together. Chop very fine half a pound of best suet, freed from the 
skin, sprinkle over it a little salt, and stir the suet into the flour, and wet 
■with one tea-cup of cold water; mix into a smooth and rather firm dough. 
Line six cups well buttered with the paste rolled out thin, wetting the edge. 
Peel, core and slice six tender sour apples, cover the apples with a cup and 
a half of sugar, fill the cups with the apples, then cover the tops of the cups 
with paste. Set the cups in a stew-pan large enough to hold them, into 
■which put enough boiling water to reach to the middle of the cups. Steam 
them thus forty-five minutes, then turn them from the cups to a dish, sift 
sugar over them, and serve with spice, sauce, or any that is agreeable. 

APPLE DUMPLINGS (NO. 2). 
Put to three cups of flour half a teaspoonful of baking-powder; sift them 
together ; cut into the flour half a cup of sweet lard; mix with a knife into 
a smooth, firm paste with one tea-cupful of cold water. Set on ice or in a 
very cool place fifteen minutes. While the pastry is getting cold take one 
and a half cups of butter, and extract the buttermilk and salt by pressing it 
in a clean towel, then flour it. Now take the dough and roll out on a 
smooth, well-floured board; place the butter on it, and fold the dough over 
it, so as to cover all the butter. Roll out lightly to a half-inch thickness; 
turn it over; fold each end to the middle, flour it, roll out again ; again turn 
over, fold each end to the middle, flour and roll out. Repeat this three 
times more, and use. (If made in summer, this paste should be put on 
ice between each folding and rolling.) Peel and core eight fine-flavored, 
tender apples, and fill the center when the core is removed with sugar. Roll 
out the pastry thin, cut it into eight squares of four inches, lay an apple on 
each square, wet the four corners of the pastry, and bring them together at 
the top of the apple, and fasten by lapping each edge over the other and 



518 " PUBDINOS. 

pressing together. Sift sugar over, lay iu a baking-sheet, and bake in a 
hot oven twenty-five minutes. Serve with hard sauce. 

BERRY OR FRUIT DUMPLINGS. 

Sift two teaspoonfuls baking-powder with one quart of flour ; rub to it 
two tablespoonfuls of butter, lialf a teaspoonful of salt, make it into a soft 
dough with milk or water, roll out thin, spread with any berries or fruity 
roll up, tie in a cloth and place in a steamer or boil in a mold ; or make the 
crust in small circles, spread with berries, fold together and bake or boil, • 

To make it into a softer pudding make a thin batter, add three well-beaten 
eggs, and pour into a well-buttered mold and boil. 

SWEET-POTATO PUDDING. 

One pound of sweet potato, boiled in a little water ; when done, take them 
out, peel them, and mash very smooth ; beat eight eggs very light; add to 
them iialf a pound of butter (creamed), half a pound of sugar (granulated), 
half a teaspoonful of powdered cinnamon, a very little nutmeg, one wine- 
glass of rose-water or wine, one gill of sweet cream ; stir all well ; then add 
the sweet potato, a little at a time ; mix all together, stirring very hard; then 
butter a deep dish, put in the pudding, and bake three-quarters of an hour. 

HARD SAUCE. 

Beat one cupful of sugar and half cupful of butter to a light cream; add 
the whites of two eggs, well-beaten, and a tablespoonful of orange, lemon, 
currant or any other juice, with such seasoning as is agreeable. Beat all 
together a few minutes. Set on the ice to harden till needed. 

SPICED SAUCE. 

Boil thi-ee-fourths of a pint of water and one cupful of sugar together 
twenty minutes, remove from the fire, and stir in one teaspoonful each of the 
extract of mace, cloves and ginger. 

PUDDING-BAGS. 

Pudding-bags should be made of stout domestic or white flannel, tightly 
sewed, and the seam left on the outside. Wring it out of hot water, and 
flour it well on the inside before putting in the batter. Leave a space of 
nearly one-third for it to rise; tie tightly. Insert a small plate in the bot- 
tom of the kettle, set the pudding on it, and have enough boiling water to 
cover it; put a cover over the kettle; do not let the water stop boiling as long 
as the pudding is in it, or it Avill be heavy. When taken out, dip it in cold 
water, pulling the open end back, over the pudding, letting it slip out 
without breaking. 



CREAMS AND CUSTARDS. 519 



CREAMS AND CUSTARDS. 

TOMATO CUSTAKD. 

This is said to be excellent for consumptive people ; we know nothing of 
its curative virtues, but give by request what is called a good receipt. We 
have never made it. 

Stew nice ripe tomatoes with care, then strain through a coarse sieve or 
strainer. Beat four eggs and two spoonfuls of sugar together, stir two pints 
of milk to one pint of the strained tomatoes, add the eggs and bake rpiickly 
in small cups. 

We should think, to be at all palatable, this would require much more 
sugar, but this is the only receipt we have ever seen for tomato custard. 

WHIPPED CPvEAM. • 
A very delicate whipped cream can be made as follows: Put a pint of 
fresh cream into a bowl; add to it four tablespoonfuls of jjowdered sugar, 
ten drops each of lemon, vanilla and bitter almond essence, and whip it with 
an egg-beater or cream-whip until the surface is covered with a thick froth; 
then let it rest for one minute, remove the froth with a skimmer, and put it 
in a colander set over a dish; again whip the cream until the troth rises, and 
remove it as before, placing it in the colander; continue to repeat this proc- 
ess until no more froth will rise, when use the cream. If the whipped cream 
is allowed to stand for two or three hours in a cool place, it will become (juite 
firm enough to use for Charlotte-russe. , 

ICE-CPvEAM. 
Mix four tablespoonfuls of corn-starch with a little milk. Heat two quarts 
of fresh milk to almost boiling, but do not boil. Beat up three eggs and mix 
the corn-starch and egg well with the hot milk, add about twelve tablespoon- 
fuls of sugar, and set away to cool. .Just before freezing, flavor to taste with 
the best Itmon or vanilla. A cheap freezer may be made as follows: Have 
made a tin pail five inches in diameter and nine inches high, provided with 
a bail and cover; get a common wooden pail for the ice; have fitted to the 
top of your pail a cover and weight to hold your freezer in the ice after it i» 
frozen. In freezing, first place your tin pail containing the cream in the 
wooden pail, pack around it finely-pounded ice three inches deep, sprinkle 
liberally with coarse salt, add more ice and more salt until the pail is full; 
move your freezer occasionally, or it will freeze fast. After your ice is in, 
keep the tin pail turning until the cream is frozen, which will be in about 
twenty minutes, if at times you cut the cream from the inside^f the freezer 



520 CREAMS AND CUSTARDS. 

with a thin strong paddle made for the purpose. By adding a little more ice 
and salt after freezing, tiie cream may be kept all night held down by the 
cover and weight. The freezing may be hastened by stirring the ice occa- 
sionally. 

SPANISH CREAM. 

Beat the yolks of six eggs, add six tablespoonfuls of sugar, beat thoroughly 
together, and pour into one quart of new, rich milk, and scald just long 
enough to make into a soft custard. Before making the custard, have three- 
fourtlis of an ounce of gelatine dissolved in half a pint of water, and when 
thorouglily dissolved pour the custard while hot into it; add sucli flavoring 
as is most relished. Strain the custard and gelatine, and pour into molds 
and set on ice. While it is cooling and forming, make little cakes of the 
whites of the six eggs, three and a half cups of flour, two of sugar, one of but- 
ter, one of milk, and two teaspoonfuls of baking-powder sifted in with the 
flour. The butter and sugar must be beaten together till very light; then 
the milk added, then the flour and baking-powder ; the well-beaten wliites of 
the eggs added the last thing. Use such spice as you prefer. When baked, 
put the cakes on the top of the cream when it is ready for the table. 



CHARLOTTE-RUSSE. 

Put half a cupful of sWeet milk into a farina-boiler, with boiling water in 
the outer kettle, and add one-fifth of a package of gelatine. Set over the fire 
and stir gently until the gelatine is dissolved. Then take from the fire, pour 
into a dish and set aside to cool. Then whisk one pint of thick, sweet cream 
with an egg-beater till it is thick ; flavor and sweeten to suit the taste. When 
the gelatine is cold, strain carefully into the cream, put a lining of lady's- 
fingers round a mold, and fill it with the cream. Cover the top with any 
fanciful device you choose, and ice it, or simply cover with lady's-fingers; 
•or, 

Dissolve one-third of a paper of Cox's gelatine in a tea-cupful of hot milk. 
Beat the whites of four eggs to a stiff froth, and add three tablespoonfuls of 
powdered white sugar ; stir the eggs and sugar into half a pint of cream. 
When the gelatine is dissolved and about milk-warm, stir all together and 
set it aside to cool. Line a mold or any simple dish — a common bowl if 
you choose — with pieces of sponge-cake or lady's-fingers, and pour this mix- 
ture into it. Set it in a cool place, or i.nto the ice chest, and, when needed, 
lay a plate over the bowl and turn the Charlotte-russe on it. Flavor with 
vanilla or any other extract or flavor best liked ; or, 

Dissolve three-fourths of a paper of Cox's gelatine in a gill of hot milk. 
Put one tea-cup of powdered loaf-sugar into one pint of rich cream, and when 



CREAMS AND CUSTARDS. 521 

the gelatine is dissolved and the cream quite cold, stir all together and set 
aside to congeal or thicken. Line a mold with lady-fingers or sponge-cake, 
and, when the cream has thickened, pour into tlie mold and set in the 
ice-chest till wanted; then turn into a dish and sift sugar over. Flavor 
to suit taste. 

This receipt has no eggs. We have never tried it, but are told it is 
excellent. 

Or, make a pint of calf's-foot jelly ; when clarified, sweeten with half a 
pound of loaf-sugar. Whip one pint very rich sweet cream till quite stifl", add 
the grated rind of one lemon, and the juice of two. W^hen the jelly is 
lukewarm, mix all together and pour into forms or molds. 

TAPIOCA CREAM. 

Soak one cup tapioca over night. In the morning put the tapioca in one 
■quart of milk ; as soon as the milk comes to the boiling point have ready the 
yolks of three eggs well beaten into a cup of sugar, and stir in; let this cook 
just long enough to thicken ; if cooked too much it will whey and be spoiled. 
Have the whites ready beaten to a stiflT froth, and stir just as you remove the 
■cream from the fire; or, after the tapoica custard is put into the dish, the 
whites may be placed on top irregularly, and just browned. 

MARMALADE FROM MIXICD FRUITS. 

Take two pounds each of plums, pears, apples and cherries. Pare, core, 
remove the pits, and stew together till perfectly tender, using as little water 
as possible — none at all if the fruit is very juicy. It should be cooked 
slowly in an earthen or porcelain kettle. When tender, rub through a sieve, 
add half a pound of sugar to every pound of the pulp, then boil steadily till 
quite stiff, taking great care that it does not scorch. When quite stiff, take 
from the fire, let it cool a little — enough to harden partially — then cut in dia- 
mond shape an inch or two long, and set aside for dessert uses. 

ORANGE DESSERT. 

Peel half a dozen fine oranges ; cut in thin slices, removing all the seeds; 
sift over them a cup of pulverized sugar. Then boil a pint of rich milk ; when 
scalding hot, add the yolks of three eggs beaten to a foam, and one teaspoon- 
ful corn-starch, first rubbing to a smooth paste in a little cold milk.' Stir it 
to the milk, and stir one way. Wlien thick, pour over the sliced oranges. 
Beat the whites of the eggs stiff; add a teaspoonful of powdered sugar. Put 
this icing over the orange in irregular heaps; place in the oven to just brown 
•delicately. To be eaten with cake. 



522 CAKE. 



CAKE. 

Cake, especially that baked in layers, will sometimes shrivel up when 
taken from the oven — when not quite stiff enough — or if the whites of eggs 
are allowed to stand after being beaten. They will then " go back " and be 
watery underneath, and that injures the cake. 

JENNY LIND CAKE, 

One pound pulverized sugar, one pound flour, seven ounces butter, five 
eggs, one tea-cup sweet milk, one even teaspoon soda, three of cream of tartar. 
Stir butter and sugar to a cream, then add the yolks of the eggs well beaten, 
next the milk, then the flour in which the cream of tartar has been sifted, 
after this the whites of the eggs beaten to a stiff froth, and last the soda, 
dissolved in a teaspoon of cold water. Three even teaspoons of baking- 
powder may be used in place of the soda and cream of tartar, and should be 
sifted in the flour. This receipt makes excellent layer-cakes, and will make 
two loaves of layer-cakes or one layer-cake and a bar tin. For a chocolate- 
cake make an icing not quite as thick as plain icing. Flavor with vanilla, 
and stir in grated chocolate. 

A GENUINE LOAF-CAKE. 

Take three pints of sifted (and well-heaped) flour, a pint of soft butter, 
one quart of sugar, five gills of new milk, half a pint of yeast, three eggs, 
two pounds of raisins, a teaspoonful of soda, a gill of brandy or wine, two 
teaspoons cinnamon and two of nutmeg. Scald the milk, cool to blood- 
warm, add the yeast, then the flour, to which all the butter and half the 
sugar have been added; then mix together, and let rise until light. It is 
better to set this sponge over night, and in the morning add the ingredients 
(flour the raisins), and let rise again. When light, fill the baking-pans, and 
let rise again. Bake in a moderate oven. This recipe makes three large 
loaves, and is a standard, economical loaf-cake. 

ANOTHER LOAF-CAKE. 

Two cups sugar, one cup of butter, three and one-half cups flour, one 
scant cup sweet milk, five eggs, one heaping teaspoonful baking-powder; 
beat the whites of two eggs to a stiff" froth, add half a cup of pulverized 
sugar, six tablespoonfuls grated chocolate, two teaspoonfuls vanilla. After 
putting this on the top of the cake, set it in the oven to harden. 



CAKE. 523 

CHEESE-CAKES. 

Beat the yolka of eight eggs very stiff, add eight ounces of sugar, finely 
powdered and sifted," and eight ounces of sweet almonds, beaten fine or pow- 
dered. Beat all together carefully till very white. Line small patty-pans 
with thin paste. Immediately before putting them into the oven melt a 
piece of butter the size of a walnut- and add to them. Fill the patty-pans 
two-thirds full, and bake immediately. If the oven is too hot they will fall 
when taken out; or, 

Press the whey from as much curd as will fill two dozen small patty- 
pans; then put the curds on the back of a sieve, and, adding half an ounce 
of butter, rub them through with the back of a silver or wooden spoon. 
Now add the well-beaten yolks of six eggs, the whites of three eggs beaten 
stiff, and two pounds of powdered sweet almonds, among which there may 
be one or two bitter ones if that flavor is desired. Add as much sugar as 
will make the curds as sweet as is liked; mix with it a wine-glass of orange- 
juice, in which the rind of an orange has been boiled a few minutes. Beat 
gradually together, and when thoroughly blended fill the patty-pans, baking 
fifteen or twenty minutes. 

DROP-CAKES. 

One cup butter, one and a lialf of sugar. Beat to a feathery cream; add 
three well-beaten eggs, then a cup of milk. Sift a full teaspoon of baking- 
powder with three cups of flour. Beat all to a smooth batter, and flavor 
with spices to suit the taste, or with vanilla or lemon. Drop with a spoon 
into well-buttered, fancy cake scallops, or three inches apart on a well-but- 
tered baking-pan. Drop a few currants, if liked, on top, and bake in a hot 
oven ten minutes. 

HICKORYNUT-CAKE. 

Beat one and a half cups of sugar and half a cup of butter to a stiff cream; 
add three-fourths of a cup of sweet milk and two cups flour, two teaspoon- 
fuls of baking-powder and the whites of four eggs, and add one cup of broken 
hickorynut meats the last thing. Bake one hour in a well-heated oven, but 
not too hot; or, 

Two cups white sugar and one of butter or cream ; then add one cup new 
milk, four cups sifted flour, one tablespoonful vanilla, if liked, or spice with 
nutmeg and cinnamon ; stir three teaspoonfuls baking-powder into the flour 
thoroughly before putting it to the milk. When all these ingredients are 
well mixed, sprinkle flour over one and a half cups of hickorynut meats 
(broken up pretty fine), and add the last thing with the whites of eight eggs, 
beaten stiff. Bake slowly one hour. 

new-year's HICKORYNUT-CAKE. 
Stir one pound of sugar, three-quarters of a pound of butter, to a thick 
cream. Put two teaspoonfuls of cream of tartar to one pound of flour, and sift 



524 CAKE. 

them together, and then stir to the sugar and butter, adding one-half cup of 
sweet milk in which one teaspoonful of Boda has been well dissolved, so that 
no little grains remain. Beat yolks of six eggs and put in, beating all to-» 
gether till the cake looks light and clear; then flour a half pint of hickory- 
nut meats and beat in; last of all add the whites of the eggs, beaten till they 
look like snow. Bake in a well-heated oven, but not in a quick one. This 
cake is excellent. 

SUGAR COOKIES. 

Four eggs, two cups of granulated sugar, one and a half cups of butter, 
one level teaspoonful of soda and two of cream-tartar ; flavor as liked, and 
use enough flour to mix soft; roll out, and before cutting into cookies 
sprinkle with granulated sugar, and roll over once with the rolling-pin; then 
cut out and bake. 

CUP-CAKE. 

Four eggs, two cups sugar, one scant cup butter, one cup milk, one small 
teaspoonful soda, two of cream-tartar. 

Beat the whites and yolks separately. Beat the sugar and butter very 
light, then add the eggs and other ingredients, and stir in flour just enough 
to stiffen. The flpur should be used with good judgment, as there is great 
diflference in the quality. Three cups of flour is the prescribed quantity, 
but Mrs. P.'s cook used less, and her cup-cakes can not be beaten by any one. 

SPICED-CAKE. 

One cup butter, one cup sugar, beaten together to a cream. Two eggs 
■well beaten, one teaspoonful ginger, one teaspoonful of cinnamon, one of 
cloves, half a nutmeg, one cup of water or milk, flour to make as thick as 
pound-cake, and one teaspoonful soda beaten into one cup of molasses till it 
fonms, and poured into the batter the last thing. If adding the molasses 
makes the batter too thin, add more flour. Put into a well-buttered pan im- 
mediately, or into cake-cups, and bake till well done, but not scorched or 
dried. Less time is required to bake in cups than in a cake-pan. 

A SIMPLE LUNCH-CAKE. 
Beat to a cream a cup and a half of butter, and the same quantity of 
granulated sugar. Beat three eggs very light, and add to the above when 
well creamed. Sift with four cups of flour two teaspoonfuls of baking- 
powder, add to the butter, sugar and eggs a cup and a half of milk, and a 
half teaspoonful of mixed spices. Beat in the flour very smooth and free 
from lumps. Pick over and flour two cups of currants or sultana raisins, 
and add to the batter. If it is too thick, add a little more milk to make a 
light batter. Bake in buttered cake-pans. If baked in one cake it takes 



CAKE. 525 

an hour in an evenly-heated oven, not scorching hot. If in two cakes, half 
an hour will be sufticient. 

FAIRY GINGER-BREAD. 

Beat one cup butter to a light cream, adding two cups sugar, gradu- 
ally. When very light, add one tablespoonful ginger. Have ready dis- 
solved three-fourths of a teaspoonful soda, and, when the butter and sugar 
are like foam, pour one cup sour milk to it, and stir in enough flour to 
make a batter just stiff enough not to run off the sheet-iron, on which it 
should be baked. There are sheets of tin or iron made on purpose to bake 
such fairy things on. They must be evenly buttered, and the batter spread 
on as thin as a wafer. Bake in a moderate oven till a clear brown. The 
moment it is taken from the oven, while still hot, cut into squares with a 
thin case-knife> Hot cake or loaf ol" bread can be cut while hot, without 
injury, if the knife is held in boiling water till very hot; wipe dry; and, while 
hot, cut bread or cake as desired. 

A large dishful can be made with the quantity of material here given, and 
if the receipt is strictly followed it is delicious. If one has no sheets, turn a 
large bake-pan bottom up, wash very clean, wipe dry, butter and spread the 
batter on this. This will answer only when the mistress is perfectly sure 
her cook keeps clean the outside of the dish. 

PARIS-CAKE. 

One pound of butter, one pound of pulverized sugar, one pound of well- 
sifted corn-starch, whites of twelve eggs, yolks of eight eggs. Beat the yolks 
of the eggs thoroughly; add the sugar and beat well again; then add the 
well-beaten whites of the eggs, then the corn-starch, and lastly add the 
melted butter very gradually ; beat all well together. Bake one hour. 

SOFT GINGER-BREAD. 

Put one teaspoon of salt into two quarts of Hour, and one teaspoon quite 
full of soda; then sift them with the flour together. Beat one cup of butter 
to a cream, and then beat to it one cup of fine brown sugar, two teaspoonfuls 
of ginger. Pour this, when well beaten to the butter, into the niidille of the 
flour. Stir one full cup of sour min< to the same quantity of molasses; when 
well combined, pour this into the flour, and mix as quickly as possible to a 
soft dough. Have on hand more sour milk, to be poured in quickly if the 
molasses and milk does not make it soft enough. Spread the dough on a tin 
sheet, or drop into gem-pans, or patty-pans; set into a baking-pan; sprinkle 
fine brown sugar over the top, and ba,ke crisp, taking care not to scorch it; or. 

One cup of molasses, one cup of sugar, one cup of .sweet milk, half a cup 
of butter, one egg, two teaspoonfuls of baking-powder; ginger and raisins to 



626 CANNING FRUITS. 

suit the taste. Stir in flour enough to make a soft batter, not as thick 9s 
ordinary cake. Bake slowly. 

GINGER-SNAPS. 
Put a pint of New Orleans molasses on the fire, add to it a great spoonful 
and a half of ginger and a tea-cupful of cream. Let all boil together three 
minutes; then beat in a teaspoonful of soda, and set it all aside to cool. 
When cool, mix in flour enough to make a stiflf dough. Eoll thin. Cut 
small and bake crisp and brown. 

HAED GINGER-BREAD. 
Take one cup of molasses, one teaspoonful of saleratus, one of ginger, one 
tablespoonful of butter or lard. Stir this all together. Then pour on one 
cup of boiling water, and stir in flour enough to make a thin batter. It is 
important that the water be boiling when poured on, and that the whole be 
beaten constantly and thoroughly while adding the flour, taking care that no 
lumps are left in. Bake about an inch thick on a sheet of tin or sheet-iron. 

MOLASSES-CAKE. 
Two cups of New Orleans molasses, four cups of flour, one cup of water, 
one cup of butter, one egg, two teaspoonfuls of soda, one orange; grate the 
peel, put that in, and also the juice and pulp. 



CANNING FRUITS. 

When preparing to " can " or preserve fruits or vegetables, the first step is 
to examine carefully all the vessels for holding them that were left over from 
last year's stores; and if more are needed, select those most trustworthy out 
of the large variety of new patents ofiered for sale every year. Every can 
or jar that has been emptied should be thoroughly cleaned, scalded and 
dried. Each stopper or cover should also be cleaned, it having been tied on> 
or in some way fastened to, its own jar or can when emptied. If this has 
been done, it will not be much trouble to get them ready for use when 
needed. There are not many tin cans that are fit to use for the same pur- 
pose the second year, because most are soldered, and only opened by cut- 
ting. They need not be wasted, however, but can be made useful as pails, 
sauce-pans, drinking-cups at picnics, and many other ways, according to 
their size, by simply cutting the top off evenly all round with "tinner's"' 



CANNING FRUITS. 527 

shears, or some old pair of little value. Then, with a pair of nippers, turn 
the sharp edge inward over a piece of wire, and with a small hammer pound 
it down smoothly. Punch a hold equi-distant on either side, and fasten in 
a strong wire for a handle, and you have a neat sauce-pan, or, if without the 
"bale," a cup. A tinsmith would, perhaps, for the price of one new can, 
bind the tops of a dozen old ones, put on the "bales" and solder on tin 
handles, and make, no doubt, a neater job of it than a novice could; but by 
a few trials one can learn to do this without any help from a smith, and 
with no expense. There are a hundred ways in which cast-off tin cans may 
be used with much comfort and economy; indeed, one could almost set up 
housekeeping with the tin cans that are thrown into the ash-barrels. 

For almost every purpose we much prefer glass or stone jars to tin cans. 
They are less trouble to fill, needing no soldering, can not get rusty, and if 
well cleaned and dried when put away will not get musty. Some recom- 
mend lining tin cans, when discolored or rusty, with writing-paper just 
before using. We would not be willing to try tliis, on account of poisonous 
substances sometimes used in preparing white paper. With glass there is no 
danger. With stone none, unless imperfectly glazed. That is a point to be 
carefully examined before using; for if the glazing is cracked or imperfect 
they may be injurious. If glass or stone cans or jars are in any wise imper- 
fect, don't use them for any thijig unless to put dry articles in. All stone- 
ware should be carefully examined, one by one, before buying, and unless 
without a blemish rejected. The little blisters sometimes seen in glass jars 
renders them unsafe for any use, for by a little rough treatment, or when ex- 
posed to heat, these blisters are liable to be broken any minute, and particles 
of the glass crumble into the contents. Every one will see that this would be 
unsafe, and therefore it is best to be particular in the selection. 

The self-sealing jars arc very little trouble if properly used. Some object 
because, after using two or three times, the rubber rings hardened with heat, 
and can no longer be used; and supposing they can not be replaced, jars 
with grooves around the top are recommended in which to u.se putty instead 
of the rubber. But we should not be willing to use putty, lest by any mishnp 
a little of it should get to the fruit. Sealing-wax is preferable, we think, if 
the rubber rings can not be replaced. We think there is no difficulty in 
doing so. We have never failed to get them when needed. They can be 
supplied from the manufacturers. 

None but the best flavored and most perfect fruit should be used, and 
none but the best of sugar. All fruit should be put up as soon after picking 
as possible, and never be so ripe as to be ready for eating. Large fruits have 
richer flavor if put up without having so much of the best properties lie close 
,to the skin. Half a pound of sugar to one pound of fruit is the usual rule; 
but the natural flavor is best secured, in the opinion of many, by using no 
sugar at all. 



528 CANNING FRUITS. 

There are many ways of protecting glass jars, and rendering it safe to put 
boiling syrnp into them. Many think it impossible to fill them without 
breaking, unless gradually heated, patting them into a pan of cold water and 
setting it over the stove till it is scalding hot, then as needed, take two or 
three out and put on a platter, keeping it on the back of the stove, and fill. 
This is a very good and safe way. It keeps the jars from touching any cold 
spot while filling, and prevents any syrup from sijilling on the stove, and 
saves any fruit that may fall over while dipping it out. When filled, they 
should be set one side at once, out of any current of air, or they will be in 
danger of cracking, even if they passed through the filling safely ; or the 
jars when filled can be set on a towel wrung out of hot water, and that will 
prevent their cracking. Let them stand a few minutes while filling others in 
the same way, and that will give the fruit time to shrink a little; then fill 
up again with hot syrup; seal at once after that — wipe off with a damp cloth 
and put away. 

Or, if you hold your glass can in a wet towel it will not break when the boil- 
ing fruit is put into it. It need not be previously heated, but you must have 
the towel as high as the neck of the can and over the bottom. You can gather 
the ends of the towel in your hand to hold it by. 

Another v,*ay — and we like it best as being less trouble — is to wrap a double 
towel wrung from cold water round the jar closely, and fold under to exclude 
all the air ; then drop a cold silver tablespoon inside, and fill. Steel or iron 
would discolor the fruit. 

In using glass jars with covers that screw on, and rubber bands, be very 
sure that the rubbers are perfect and fit closely. The rubber ring must not 
slip back when putting on the cover, but should be even all round. If this 
is not looked after, and the ring slides back anywhere, the air will rush in, and 
the fruit very soon spoil. Fill the jar heaping full ; put the cover on im- 
mediately, screw down tightly, and, as the jar and fruit cool, the glass will 
begin to contract. When this begins, turn the jar down a minute, then 
raise it, and continue to turn downward every minute till perfectly air- 
tight. 

It is a protection to wrap glass jars closely in brown paper to keep out the 
light, which ruins all preserves or canned fruit, and a preserve-closet should 
always be dark, dry and cool. Tomatoes, especially, are much injured by 
light. It causes citric acid to form in them. Too much light is the chief 
cause of the exceeding acidity of most of the canned tomatoes. If the citric 
acid is once allowed to form, no amount of sugar can restore the original 
flavor of the tomato, or sweeten it. 

If the syrup begins to leak out a few days after canning, it is a sure sign 
that the air has forced an entrance, and the only way is to open the can, un- 
seal the syrup, pour out the contents, scald, and use as rapidly as you can. 
If not, it will soon spoil ; re-sealing will not save it. 



CANNINO FRUITS. 529 

Putting in the fruit or vegetables boiling hot, and completely filling the 
can, are two points to be observed most strictly, if one would have any suc- 
cess in canning. There should also be no delay, but the fruit and syrup 
should be dipped into the jar as rapidly as possible when boiling hot. A can 
filled so as to run over, and instantly covered, and tightly screwed on, wiped 
clean and covered with paper, put in a cool, dry, dark room, will be as fresh 
and fine-flavored as it is possible for fruit to be that ia not really freshly 
gathered. But a jar carelessly filled, without being sure that the syrup is 
boiling hot, or the jar overflowingly full, if when opened it is not already fer- 
menting, will be so near to it as to lose ail flavor of fresh fruit, and be un- 
palatable and unhealthy. It is no saving of time to do any work carelessly, 
but in most cases a great loss of comfort. 

CANNING PEACHES. 

Firpt prepare the syrup. For canned fruits, one quart of granulated 
8ug ir to two quarts of water is the proper proportion; to be increased or less- 
ened according to the quantity of fruit to Le canned, but always twice as 
much water as sugar. Use a porcelain kettle, and, if possible, take care that 
it is kept solely for canning and preserving — nothing else. Have another- 
porcelain kettle by the side of the first, for boiling water (about three: 
quarts). 

Put the peaches, a few at a time, into a wire basket, such as is used to cook 
asparagus, etc. See that it is perfectly (dean and free from rust. Dip them, 
when in the basket, into a pail of boiling water for a moment, and transfer 
immediately into a pail of cold water. The skin will then at once peel off 
easily, if not allowed to harden by waiting. This, besides being a neat and 
expeditious way of peeling peaches, also saves the best part of the fruit 
which is so badly wasted in the usual mode of paring fruit. As soon as^ 
peeled, halve and drop the peaches into boiling water, and let them simmer — 
not boil hard— till a silver fork can be passed through them easily. Then 
lift each half out separately with a wire spoon, and fill the can, made ready 
for use as directed: pour in all the boiling syrup which the jar will hold; 
leave it a moment for the fruit to shrink while filling the next jar; then add 
as much more boiling syrup as the jar will hold, and cover and screw down 
tig'.tly immediately. 

Continue in tiiis way, preparing and sealing only one jar at a time, until 
all is done. If any syrup is left over, add to it the water in which the peaches- 
were simmered and a little more sugar; boil it down till it "ropes" from the 
spoon, and you have a nice jelly, or, by adding some peaches or other fruit, 
a good dish of marmalade. Peaches or other fruit, good, but not quite nice 
enough for canning, can be used up in this way very economically. Peaches 

to be peeled as directed above, should not be too green or too ripe, else, in the 
34 



530 CANNINO FRUITS. 

first place, the skin can not be peeled off ; or, if too ripe, the fruit will fall to 
pieces. 

Another Way. — After peeling and halving as above directed, lay a clean 
towel or cloth in the bottom of a steamer over a kettle of boiling water, and 
put the fruit on it, lialf filling the steamer. Cover tightly and let it steam 
%vhile making tlie syrup. When that is ready, and the fruit steamed till a 
silver fork will pass through easily, dip each piece gently into the boiling 
syrup; then as gently phice in the hot jor, and so continue till all have been 
thus scalded and put in the jar. Tlien fill/x// with syrup, cover and seal im- 
mediately. While filling, be sure and keep the jai-s liot. 

Another Way. — Peel, halve, remove the pits, and prepare the syrup as 
directed; and when it is boiling drop in enough fruit for one jar; watch 
closely, and the instant they ai'e suflieiently tender, lake out each half with 
care, and put into a hot jar till full. Then dip in all the boiling syrup it 
■will hold. Cover tightly, set aside, and prepare for the next jar. Be sure 
and skim the syrup each time before adding more fruit. 

After jars are filled and the cover screwed on, before setting them away» 
every little while give the screw another twist, until it can not be moved 
farther. Hard fruit, apples, quinces and the like, are better for being steamed 
partially, only enough to soften the fruit without breaking it; then tliey 
should be finished oft' in the syrup, as the seasoning penetrates all through 
the fruit, and we think it keeps better. 

CANNING PEAES. 

The skin will not peel ofT so easily as the peach by dipping them in lioil- 
ing water, but it will loosen or soften enough to be taken oft' with less waste 
of the fruit than if pared without scalding. Prepare the syrup, and proceed 
as for peaches. They will require longer cooking; but as soon as a silver 
or well-plated fork will pass through easily, they are done. Longer cooking 
destroys the flavor. 

PINE-APPLES. 

Pare very carefully with a silver or plated knife, as steel injures all fruit. 
With the sharp point of the knife dig out as neatly and with as little waste 
as possible all the "eyes" and black specks; then cutout each of the sections 
in which the "eyes" were, in solid pieces clear down to the core. By doing 
this, all the real fruit is saved, leaving the core a hard, round, woody sub- 
stance, but it contains considerable juice. Take this core and wring it with 
the hands, as one wrings a cloth, till all the juice is extracted, then throw it 
away. Put the juice thus saved into the syrup; let it boil up five minutes, 
skim till clear, then add the fruit. Boil as short a time as possible, and 
have the flesh tender. The pine-apple loses flavor by overcooking more 



CANNING FRUITS. 531 

readily than any other fruit. Fill into well-heated jars; add all the Ryrnp 
the jar will hold; cover and screw down as soon as possible. 

CANNED PLUMS. 

Plums should be wiped with a soft cloth or dusted, never washtd. Have 
the syrup all ready, prick each plum with a silver fork to prevent the skin 
from bursting, and put them into the syrup. Boil from eiglit to ten minuteft, 
judging by the size of the fruit. Dip carefully into the hot jars, fill full, and 
8crew on the cover immediately. 

Cherries may be put up in the same way. 

CIDER-APPLE SAUCE. 

Peel, quarter and core the apples, and, if you do not wish the quarters 
broken or boiled up like apple-butter, spread them on a platter and cover 
them over with netting, and put in the sun two or three days before cooking. 
Tiiat will prevent the fruit from breaking to pieces. To every pailful of 
apples put one quart of boiled cider. Boil slowly until the apples are a dark 
mahogany color. One-third sour and two-thirds sweet apples make a very 
palatable sauce; or, 

A few quinces to every pailful of apples greatly improves it for those who 
like the quince flavor; or. 

All sweet apples make, we think, a very delicious sauce; or, 

"The Buckeye Cookery" gives the following: "Pare, quarter and core 
enough apples to fill a gallon porcelain kettle. Wash the apples, and while 
draining put in the kettle half a gallon of boiled cider, and bring to the boil- 
ing point, then put in the apples, and place over a plate large enough to 
cover close. Boil steadily but not rapidly until they are thoroughly cooked. 
Test by taking a piece from under the edge of the plate with a fork; but do 
not remove the plate until the apples are done, or they will sink to the bot- 
tom and burn." 

Apples may be cooked in the same way with sweet cider. 

For boiled cider, sweet apples are the best, though any kind may be used; 
but in either case the cider should be boiled as soon as it comes from the 
press, and boiled to the consistency of molasses. Bottle, cork and seal while 
hot. Keep in a cool place. It is excellent for making sauce; and a little 
used for mince-pies is much better, in our opinion, than brandy or wine. 

8WEET CORN. 

Corn is considered one of the most difficult things to can, but Mr. Win»- 
low'a patented process makes it comparatively easy. 

This is Winslow's mode of canning corn : Fill tin cans with the uncooked 
com cut carefully from the cob. Scrape the cob enough to get the milk, but 



632 CANmXO FRUITS. 

not so as to loosen any of the hulls. The corn must be freshly gathered, and 
not allowed to be in the sun' a moment after plucking; the sooner it is cut 
from the cob and in the can, the better. As soon as the can is tilled seal it 
hermetically. Put the cans wlien filled and sealed into a boiler, surround 
them with straw to prevent them striking against each other when boiling; 
then cover them with cold water. Set the boiler over the fire; lieat gradually. 
Let them boil, after the water gets to the boiling point, one and a half hours. 
Then puncture the top of each can to allow the escape of gases; but seal 
immediately after, and let them boil two and a half hours longer. In pack- 
ing the cut corn into tlie can, all the milk that flows out while cutting it 
must be put into the can with the corn. 

CORN AND TOMATOES. 

This combination is much liked by many, and, very singularly, when 
mixed, there is none of the trouble often experienced in canning corn alone. 

Scald, peel and slice ripe tomatoes; they should not be too ripe. About 
one-third corn to two-thirds tomatoes, or, if preferred, equal parts. Cook the 
corn in its own juice twenty minutes in a steamer, to avoid the necessity of 
adding any water. Cook the tomatoes in a porcelain kettle five minutes, in 
only their own juice ; then add them to the corn ; stir well together till they 
boil up once, and can and seal immediately. 

We have m^ver tried this, and should fear the corn would need longer 
cooking; but it comes well indorsed from several good authorities. 

STKING-BEANS. 

Next to tomatoes, string-beans are among the easiest vegetables to can. 
String them by pulling ofi' the rough strings or bindings on either side ; break 
into two or three pieces, and throw into boiling water till scalded all through^ 
but not cooked, then can and seal immediately while boiling hot. 

TOMATOES. 

Should be ripe, but not at all softened, and be sure they are freshly gath* 
ered. Pour boiling water over them to remove all the skins. Melt red seal- 
ing-wax, and add a little lard, as the wax alone is too brittle. Have it all 
ready in a tin on the stove, if the tomatoes are to be put in tin cans. Put 
the tomatoes in a porcelain-lined preserve kettle; add no water, but cook in 
their own juice, taking oflF all the scum which rises. Stir with a wooden 
spoon. Have the cans on the hearth filled with boiling water. When the 
tomatoes have scalded all through over a good fire, and boiled up once, 
empty the hot water from the cans, set them in a pan of boiling water over 
the stove, and till them with the scalding tomatoes. Wipe oflT all moisture 
from the top of the can with a clean cloth, and press the cover on tightly. 



JELLIES. 533 

"While one presses the cover down hard with a flat knife, let another pour 
•carefully round this cover the hot sealing-wax from the cup, which should 
be bent to a lip, so it will How all round the cover in a small stream. Plold 
down with the knife a minute longer, till the wax sets; continue in the same 
■way till all the cans in readiness are filled. Now take a flat poker, or the 
blade of an old knife no longer useful, heat red-hot over the coals, and run 
it round on the sealing-wax, to melt any bubbles that may have formed. 
Notice if there is any noise from the tops of the cans like escaping gas. If 
60, it is not tight enough, and the steam is escaping. Examine if any holes 
are found anywhere about the can, and, wiping them dry, cover with the 
■wax while the cans are yet hot. 

Boil down what juice may be left over after the cans are filled, season, and 
use for catsup. 

If glass jars are used instead of tin cans, screw the covers tight, wrap in 
paper, and set in a dark, cool place. We much prefer glass to tin for all 
Bucii purposes, and especially for tomatoes, because the acid of the tomatoe« 
acting on tin gives a disagreeable taste, and we doubt if they are as whole- 
some as glass or stone. 



JELLIES. 

Only the best quality of fruit should be selected for preserving — that 
"which is ripe but not overripe. Tliis c;iution is especially necessary in pre- 
paring jelly. The gelatinous substance of the fruit grows watery with age, 
and ill spite of all efforts jelly made from too ripe fruit will not "form." 
Currant jelly is usually the first preserving done. Strawberries are often 
neglected, as they are an extremely delicate fruit to keep through tlie hot 
■weather. Currant jelly-making is one of the most delicate culinary arts. It 
requires care, skill and attention to the smallest details. Without this the 
jelly may come, but it will be dark and stringy, and flavorless, or, most 
humiliating of all to the housekeeper's pride — it may be thin. If the jelly 
dois not "form" in one night, there is little use in working over it. The 
currants have been overripe or the juice has been cooked too long. It will 
grow a little thicker if ii is set in the sun for a day or two, covered with 
pieces of glass; but jelly once thin will never form rightly, and no care can 
remedy the mistake. The Fourth of July is about the right time in the 
Eafitern States to pick currants for jelly. 

Speed is of the greatest consequence in all preserving, as the natural flavor 
of the fruit is more readily saved. The old-fashioned method of squeezing 



534 JELLIES. 

the juice from the unhealed fruit, and boiling it down to a thick conserve is 
happily abandoned now hj all intelligent housekeepers. Place the currants — 
which may be stewed if you wish, though it is not necessary — in a stone jai-, 
and set it in a pot of cold water, which should be placed on the fire. The 
stone jar should be covered tightly, and be a little higher than the rim of 
the pot, so that no steam can get to the currants. Cook them in this way 
thirtv minutes after the water begins to boil. Then break the fruit with a 
potato-beetle, and strain through a flannel bag. Do not squeeze the currants 
too hard, as the jelly will be cloudy if you do. It is better to press the juice 
out with a press. To every pint of juice allow a pound of sugar. Put the 
juice over the fire in a porcelain-lined kettle, and let it cook gently, fifteen 
minutes after it boils. Then add the sugar; stir to dissolve it as quickly as 
possible, and at the first boiling remove the kettle from the fire, and fill the 
bowls or tumblers you have in readiness. These should be standing in a 
pan of boiling water, to prevent their being cracked by the hot jelly. Opaque 
bowls or jai-s are better to keep jelly than tumblers, as they exclude the 
light. A bowl makes a prettier mold for the table. It is well to put a 
specimen of the jelly in a tumbler to examine its clearness and color. 

Many housekeepers prepare currant jelly spiced to eat with mutton and 
other meats. This is easily done by adding a tablespoonful of cinnamon 
and one of mace, tied in a bag, to the juice when you put it on to boil. 
Before you add the sugar take out the bag of spices, and add a tablespoonful 
of cloves, which may remain in the jelly, as they look pretty floating in the 
clear crimson foam. 

Black currant jelly is excellent, and is matle in the same way as red cur- 
rant. 

The amateur cook may fail in her first currant jelly, but she Avill be sui-e 
to succeed with grape or quince jellies. They are much more easily made, 
and can scarcely fail to be firm and fine. Grapes are made into jelly in the 
same way as currants. The fruit should be only just ripe, and green grapes, 
just before they turn, are often used. The most delicious grape jelly is 
made of the large fox-grapes common in thickets in New England. Plum 
jelly is made like grape, and damson or green-gage plums are used. 

CUREANT JELLY. 
Stem the currants, scald them in a porcelain kettle or in a crock in a kettle 
of hot water. Do not let them boil ; you can tell by the changed color when 
they are scalded. As soon as they are cool enough, wash Hnd strain them 
through a coarse linen bag first, and then through a flannel bag. The juice 
from a few quarts of red raspberries will give currant jelly a delicious flavor. 
Allow one pound of sugar to a pint of juice if you like it very sweet, but it 
will jelly with less. . Five pounds of sugar to six pounds of juice will an- 
swer, but will require boiling a few moments longer. When your juice. has 



JELLIES. 535 

boiled ten minutes throw in yoiir sugar, and as quick as it dissolves try your 
jelly by cooling a little on a spoon; if it stiffens in the least, the jelly has 
cooked enough. From ten to fifteen minutes is usually sufficient time for it 
to boil. Your currants should not be very ripe if you want your jelly to be 
a fine color; and if your currants are not very ripe, five minutes will be long 
enough for the juice to boil before the sugar is added. .Jelly made in this 
manner will never fail to stiffen. 

APPLE JELLY. 

Wash and (juarter some nice tart apples— dark red make the nicest-look- 
ing jelly — put them in an enameled kettle or bright tin pan, cover with cold 
water, and allow them to cook until soft and the juice has a thick appear- 
ance ; strain through flannel, 'fake a pint of sugar to a pint of juice. Put 
the sugar in the oven to heat; do not shut the door or allow the sugar to 
burn. Let the juice boil up, and skim until quite clear, then add the sugar, 
and allow to boil briskly until it jellies, which is usually in about half an 
hour, depending upon the quantity of water in the juice. The less water 
the less boiling it requires. By following these directions and using your 
own judgment, you can not fail of success. Turn into glasses before it cools. 

ORANGE JELLY. 

One box of Cox's gelatine soaked one hour in a pint of cold water; then 
add one pint of boiling water, one pound sugar, and one pint of sour or- 
angejuice. Let it heat gradually, just to the boiling point; then strain 
through a tamis, and pour into molds that are wet in cold water. 

Some boil a little of the peel in the hot water, long enough to extract a 
little of the bitter flavor, if liked; or add one gill of lemon-juice instead of 
a full pint of orange-juice; or, 

Grate off the rind of two Seville, two China oranges and two lemons, 
squeeze the juice of three of each of these, strain it, and add to the juice a 
quarter of a pound of loaf-sugar and a quarter of a pint of water. Boil till 
it almost candies. Have ready one quart of isinglass jelly made from two 
ounces of isinglass put to the syrup, and boil up once. Strain it, and let it 
stand to settle before putting into the molds. We think the Florida 
oranges, both the sweet and the sour orange, make the finest jelly of any. 

QUINCE AND CRAB-APPLE JELLY. 

Quinces and crab-ajjples seem made for jelly. They can not be preserved 
without their syrup running to jelly around the fruit. Select the quinces, 
slice and core them, but put them all together over the fire; cook till tender, 
allowing a cup of water to every five pounds of fruit. Press out the juice, 
and to every pint of juice allow a pound of sugar, and proceed as with cur- 



536 PICKLIXG. 

rant jelly. For crab- apple jelly, choose the best Siberian apples, cut them 
in half — do not peel or core, place them in a stone jar set in water, in the 
sanje way as currants, but let them remain on the back part of the range, 
the water slowly boiling around them for seven or eight hours. Set them off 
the stove at night, and in the morning strain the cold juice through a flannel, 
boil it down twenty minutes, and add sugar in the same.proportion as in 
■currants. Let it boil up, and then fill the bowls. 

For peach jelly add three-quarters of the blanched kernels of the peach- 
nuts. After the juice is pressed out, allow a scant pound of sugar to a pound 
of juice, cook the juice twenty minutes, add the sugar, let it bt)il up once, and 
ptit in the bowl. Do not seal up any jelly at once, but leave it uncovered 
till the nest day, then place two thin papers dipped iti brandy over it, and 
seal it up with paper and paste. 

CHICK i:n jelly. 

Skin the chicken, remove all fat, break and pound the bones and meat, 
cover with cold water, and heat slowly in a steam-tight kettle. Let it 
simmer till like a pulp; then strain through a sieve or cloth, season to laste, 
and put over the fire again, this time without a cover. Simmer till the 
liquid is reduced one-half. Be sure and skim off all fat. Set it to cool 
until it becomes a jelly. If one has no steamer, a cloth laid between the lid 
and any kettle that it wiU fit closely answers the same purpose. 



PICKLING. 

"We have great sympathy for those who have had no experience in the first 
attempt to preserve and pickle unless able to secure the aid of some judi- 
cious friend familiar with the work. Courage, self-reliance and a resolute 
■will are of great advantage; but experience is, after all, a great assistant in 
securing success. Household journals abound in receipts and directions for 
preserving and pickling; but, valuable as are many of these, a beginner will 
find it necessary to make several experiments before feeling that the work 
is mastered. 

"We are inclined to think that too much time and strength are expended, 
in private families, in preserving and pickling. Since so much of this work 
is done on a large scale, and so cheaply in the many excellent public estab- 
lishments which have reduced this work to the simplest and easiest forms, 
it would seem advisable for housekeepers to supply themselves with many 
tilings of this kind from these manttfactories. In most cases it would be the 



PICKLING. 537 

cheapest as well as the easiest. This is especially the case with canned and 
preserved fruits, although it is, without any question, best that every house- 
keeper should know how this work is done, and be able to do it well herself. 

"We don't think, however, this idea of buying from the factory holds good 
with regard to pickling, where there is so much risk of unsafe adulteration. 
The large amount of spices, now so much used in preparing many kinds of 
pickles, must be injurious to health. Even the simplest kinds should be 
used with moderation. The imported pickles, and those now so largedy made 
in our public manufactories, are too often compounded witli articles well 
known to be injurious; and, therefore, we would advise ail who have the 
health of their families near to their hearts, to have such pickles as they 
are willing to use prepared at home under their own supervision, and be 
sure that they use only the very best kind of vinegar — the pure cider-vin- 
egar. A large amount of the vinegar used in the factories, we are informed, 
has no apple-juice or cider in i(, and is injurious. 

The process of "greening" pickles is carried on with the most reckless 
disregard to health. A bottle of small, delicately-greened cucumbers or 
mi.xed pickles is very attractive to those who are unaware of the poison 
hidden in them. Even where the best of cider-vinegar is used, if the arti- 
cles to be pickled are soaked or boiled in a brass kettle, they are poisoned 
by the verdigris or acetate of copper, which will be formed by the action 
of the vinegar on the brass. Acids dissolve the lead that there is in the 
tinning of sauce-pans, and corrode copper and brass, so that if left standing 
in such vessels, even a short time, the vinegar becomes a poison. For this 
reason metal kettles ought not to be used in making pickles. The vinegar 
should be boiled in a stone jar, and wooden spoons used instead of forks. 

Many suppose that the delicate green which is thought desirable in most 
pickles can not be secured except by the use of alum in the brine in which they 
are often put before vinegar is used. In this brine they think they should be 
soaked with as much alum as will insure a bright green; then boiled in it, 
and allowed to stand half a day in the brass kettle until thoroughly cooled. 
It is claimed that, by standing half a day to soak and cool after boiling, the 
skin is acted upon by the metal or acetate of copper, and the green color se- 
cured. But they assert that after thus standing in the brass kettle, if soaked 
in a large quantity of boiling water the poison will be so far removed or de- 
stroyed as to be harmless. They further claim that, if soaked long enough 
in the brass to make them a pure green, they are dangerously poisonous, 
and that it will be known if this has been done by a light-green color; but 
when they have been soaked in alum and brine in brass half a day, and 
then removed and soaked in hot water, if it is found that the action of the 
boiling water turns them a dark grass-green it is a proof that the poison is 
destroyed. 

This may be true; but we should not care to be a link poisoned for the 



538 PICKLING. 

sake of eating pickles of a dark grass-green. Pickles cante made green enough 
without the use of alum or brass, and we should not be content to think that 
boiling water will so far remove the poison as to make it no longer danger- 
ously poifeonous. We do not think it worth the risk of a slight poisoning for 
the sake of securing a proper color to our pickles. 

Many kinds of sweet pickles have become quite common within a few 
years. They are less liable to derange the stomach than those more highly 
spiced, if pure cider vinegar is used; but the mixed pickles — Piccalilli, Indian 
pickles, Bengal pickle, or chutney — are all tiery, and must need an uncom- 
monly strong digestion to be eaten without injury. But each one must judge 
for himself. 

All pickles must be kept always covered with vinegar. If at any time there 
are indications of their becoming moldy or soft, pour ofi' the vinegar, boil and 
skim, and then pour it back, boiling hot, over the pickles. Have the jars all 
two-thirds full of pickles, then fill up full with vinegar. Exposure to the air 
■will make any pickles soft, and spoil them. The jar must be, therefore, kept 
tightly closed always. 

In greening pickles — for they can be nicely greened without brass — lay 
some grape-leaves over them, then cover with boiling vinegar. Cover the jar 
closely, so that none of the steam escapes, and boil four or five minutes; not 
any longer, or the boiling will take away their flavor, and the pickles will 
soon become soft. In a week after this, pour off the vinegar, boil it, and 
pour again boiling hot over the pickles. With pickled fruit this may be re- 
peated two or three times before sealing the jar, unless the fruit is found to 
be quite soft. In that case do not boil again. 

To seal up jars, cut a piece of old cotton or linen large enough to cover the 
top, and cover half an inch over the sides, leaving it loose on top to give 
room for the cover to fit in tight. Dip the cloth in white of egg to seal it down 
over the edge and on the sides, then put on the cover. W^et plaster of Paris 
quite soft, and spread over the cover on top, and so far over the sides as to 
cover all the cloth. The plaster hardens almost instantly, so one must work 
rapidly, and then they will have a solid cement or cover at once, and per- 
fectly air-tight. Wet only so much plaster of Paris at a time as will be 
needed for one jar, as it hardens so soon. Lay on enough to thoroughly imbed 
or cover the stone cover. 

There need be no trouble in having the very best of cider-vinegar — when 
one has an orchard and an abundance of apples. Yet many are ignorant of 
the art. The cider should be made of good, sound fruit. When the juice has 
fermented, and made good, clear cider, draw it off into strong, well-cleansed 
barrels. Put a generous piece of nice "mother" into the cider, turn a clean 
glass bottle, neck down, into the bung-hole to keep out dust and insects, and 
keep the barrel out of doors on a wall or bench till the weather threatens to 
freeze, when it should be well housed and secured from any danger of freez- 



PICKLING. 539 

ing. If the quantity of mother seems deficient, cover a half-sheet of white 
paper with molasses, and put into the barrel. 

In most cases, a barrel of sour cider thus managed will become strong vin- 
egar in a few months. But if there is any haste required to secure good 
vinegar, or if from causes that an inexperienced person can not fathom, the 
vinegar will not '' come," there is another sure and quick way Iw which the 
vinegar will be rapidly perfected, and be equally excellent, provided always 
that the cider has been made from good, sound apples, free from worms, 
specks or decay. 

Take a good clean barrel, knock out both heads, fill it full (but not pressed 
down too closely) of clean shavings (pine are usually taken, but clean birch 
shavings give a more pleasant flavor to the vinegar). When the shavings 
are in, set the barrel on a bench with a flat board, round which there is a 
groove, just as one prepares a lye-leach. Tlien draw off the cider, pour it on 
top of the shavings slowly, so that it gradually trickles down and slowly 
runs through them into the groove or gutter on the bottom board, and thence 
into the tub placed beneath to catch it. It becomes vinegar almost immedi- 
ately, and of the strongest kind. The cider, in passing thus slowly over the 
large surface presented by the shayings, takes up the oxygen of the atmos- 
phere as it flows, and turns sour, or intq vinegar, rapidly. 

TOMATO CATSUP. 

Wash and drain dry two baskets of fair ripe tomatoes. Cut out the stems 
and all imperfect spots. Put the fruit into a kettle, giving each one a squeeze 
to break the skin as you drop it into the kettle. A brass kettle, if you will be 
sure it is scoured perfectly bright, without a spot on it, is better than porce- 
lain, being less likely to burn at the bottom. Cut up twelve ripe bell-pep- 
pers and as many onions, and put with the tomatoes ; then set the kettle over 
the fire and let tlie fruit cook two hours, stirring often from the bottom, to 
prevent the tomatoes sticking or burning. Then after bting thus cooked, 
strain through a fine sieve, or, better still, use the patent tin scoop and sieve 
combined. The crank or handle that turns the paddle will press the pulp and 
juice through the sieve, leaving seeds and skin inside. When strained, add a 
pint and a half of salt, one quart of vinegar, three tablespoonfuls of ground 
cinnamon, three of black pepper and two of cloves, two of allspice, two of 
mace and one of ginger. Tie all the spices loosely in a bag, and boil slowly 
twelve hours. 

Of course the catsup can not be finished in one day, and at night empty it 
from the brass kettle into wooden or earthen bowls. The latter is the best. 
Cover closely to keep out dust, and let it stand till morning. See that the 
brass kettle is faithfully scoured as soon as emptied, and well dried, so that 
no verdigris can form on it or around the handle or sides. In the morning 
give the kettle another thorough washing and scalding, after which put the 



540 PICKLING. 

catsup into the kettle again, and boil slowly all day, or till as thick as rich 
cream, so that no clear liquid will rise to the top. Stir often, else as it thick- 
ens it will stick to the bottom, and scorching ruins the whole. A plate 
turned down on the bottom of a kettle is a great protection against 
scorching. 

People differ so widely in taste with regard to seasoning, that we give a 
medium quantity which can be increased or diminished to suit the taste. 

When cooked sufficiently, the catsup should be put into bottles strongly 
corked. There is very little danger of bursting the bottle or forcing out the 
cork. None of ours have ever done so. In hot weather, if kept too damp, it 
may sour, but no danger of that if kept in a cold, dry place. 

PICKLING EGGS. 

Put black pepper and one or two small cayenne peppers into as much vin- 
egar as will cover the number of eggs to be pickled. Tie up some sticks of 
cinnamon, a few allspice and whole cloves, in a bit of muslin, and put to the 
vinegar, and set it over the fire to boil. While this is being done, boil the 
eggs hard. When done, place in cold water, and when perfectly cold take 
off' the shells, lay the eggs in the jar and pour the boiling vinegar over with 
the bag of spice. Set aside for a week, when they will be fit for use. Serve 
them in slices. 

KIPE TOMATOES. 

Tie up the same kind as you find agreeable for any pickles. Scald the 
spices in as much vinegar as yon will need to cover the fruit, and add to it 
a pound of sugar to every quart of vinegar. While these are scalding, 
pare ripe but sound tomatoes, picking for the hardest ripe ones. Do not 
scab! them. Put them carefully into a jar, and pour the vinegar and spices, 
when boiling hot, over them. Screw the cover on closely, and set them 
in a cool place. 

CHOW-CHOW. 

One peck of small cucumbers — the smaller the better — half a peck of green 
tomatoes, half a peck of small onions, two heads of cauliflower. Scatter salt 
over them, and let them stand for twenty-four hours ; then rinse off with 
cold water, drain them well; then add a handful of grated or scraped horse- 
radish root, and three heads of celery. Take cold vinegar enough to cover 
these, and put into it half an ounce each of tumeric (this can be purchased 
■at any drug-store), cloves and cinnamon ; one-eighth of a pound of ground 
pepper (black), one-eighth of a pound of sugar, half a pound of white must- 
ard seed, half a pound of ground mustard. Boil for fifteen minutes, and 



PIVKLINQ. 541 

pour over the cucumbers, etc. If you have empty chow-chow bottles, seal 
up in those. After a few weeks it will be ready for use, 

WALNUT PICKLE. 

The best kind are the shag burk or any of the white kind and English 
walnut. All but the latter can be found wild iu most hilly or mountainous 
regions. But they can usually be found in the markets. They must be 
gathered while tlie rinds are tender (the common black walnut will answer if 
none other can be procured, but not so well as the two varieties named). Lay 
the walnuts in strong salt water for two weeks; take them out, rub thcni with 
a dry cloth, and put tliem in fresh water for one night. Put garlic or onions, 
cloves, allsjjice and pepper into vinegar. Boil these spices and vinegar 
together, and pour over the walnuts hot. Indeed, it is better to boil them a 
little in the vinegar the first day, and the two following days scald the 
vinegar, and pour over them, so that the seasoning may strike well through 
the nuts. No pickle is more popular, and of late it has become quite rare. 
White walnuts, one gallon; vinegar, two quarts; garlic or onions, half a 
pint; cloves, half an ounce; allspice, one teaspoonful ; cayenne pepper, one 
teaspoonful; long black pepper, two ounces; sugar, one pound and a half. 

STRING-BEAN PICKLE. 

String-beans make good pickle, but they must be canned immediately 
after pickling or they will not retain their freshness longer than for a week 
or two. To pickle them, first remove the " strings," then pour hot vinegar 
over them. They will be ready for use in a day or two. 

SPICED FRUITS. 
Spiced apples and nice, tender pears, particularly the Seickles, make a nice, 
sweet pickle, as follows: Take four pounds of apples (weigh them after they 
are peeled), two pounds of sugar, half an ounce of cinnamon in the stick, 
one quarter of an ounce of cloves and one pint of vinegar; let the vinegar, 
spices and sugar come to a boil, then put in the whole apples and cook them 
until they are so tender that a broom splint will pierce them easily. These 
will keep for a long time in a jar. Put a clean cloth over the top of the jar 
before putting the cover on. Early pears may also be spiced iu the same 
way, and are nice for dinner or tea. 

SWEET PICKLES. 

We give a receipt for cantaloupe melons, the best we ever tasted; and 

citron, watermelons and cucumbers can be prepared from the same receipt, 

though we think none of these will be as fine flavored as the cantaloupe 

melon. Pare and slice fine, ripe cantaloupe melons, weigh them, pack close 



542 PICKLING. 

in an earthen dish or stone jar, cover with vinegar and leave them twenty- 
four hours. Then remove the melon carefully. For fifteen pounds of melon 
weigh out eleven pounds of sugar, eleven ounces cinnamon, seven ounces 
cloves and three and a half allspice; none of the spices to be pulverized. 
For this amount leave out one quart of the vinegar used to soak the melon 
(it will answer to soak other pickles, but will make too much syrup if all is 
used). Add the sugar and spice to the remainder of the vinegar, heat it to 
boiling, skimming carefully till clear; then add the melon and boil slowly 
till the melon is tender, but not so as to fall in pieces, from half an hour to 
an hour, according to the ripeness of the melon, only be sure that it is tender. 
When done, let all stand together twenty-four hours. Then heat the syrup 
to boiling, again pack the melon into the can in which it is to be kept, and 
when boiling hot pour the syrup over. Ck)ver and set aside. Not fit for use 
for several weeks. Improves with age. It is excellent. 

PICKLED CAULIFLOWER. 

Select the closest and whitest flowers; put them in bunches, spread them 
on earthen dishes, sprinkle salt on them ; in three days put them in earthen 
jars, and pour scalding salt water upon them ; let them stand six or eight hours, 
drain them carefully, then put them in glass cans, cover with vinegar, and 
seal up tightly. Elder flowers and buds add a very high flavor to pickle 
and horseradish. Leaves or roots will keep pickles from molding. 

PICKLED ONION. 

Choose small button onions, as nearly the same size as possible; peel them 
and pour over them strong boiling hot brine ; cover them closely, and the 
next day drain them from the brine, wipe them dry, and put them into cold 
vinegar, with whole pepper, bruised garlic, blades of mace and sliced horse- 
radish. Keep them covered with vinegar; close the jar tightly and set in 
cool, dry place. 

TOMATO CATSUP. 
Take six quarts ot cut tomatoes, cook and strain them through a sieve, 
then add one pint of vinegar, half a cup of sugar, two tablespoonfuls of black 
pepper, two of salt, one each of cinnamon, allspice and cloves; boil until 
thick. Good cooks prefer putting into bottles rather than cans, for the 
reason that, unless all is used soon after opening the can, the top gets moldy, 
and much is wasted. 



SALADS AND SAUCES. 543 



SALADS AND SAUCES. 

TOMATO SALAD. 

Slice one quart of ripe tomatoes; beat one egg very light, add a very little 
cayenne pepper, two teaspoonfuls of sugar, one of salt; chop very fine two 
small, young onions, add two tablespoonfuls of vinegar, sour orange or 
lemon-juice, as best suits the taste, and two tablespoonfuls of oil or melted 
butter; garnish with two hard-boiled eggs, cut in slices. 

SPINACH SALAD. 

One pint of tender lettuce-leaves, the same of spinach-tops, and a few mint- 
leaves, if liked. Beat one raw egg light, add gradually two tablespoonfuls 
of oil or melted butter, a little cayenne pepper, half a teaspoonful of salt, 
and stir two tablespoonfuls of vijiegar or lemon-juice, then pour over the 
lettuce and spinach, and dress the top with sliced hard-boiled eggs. 

Miss Corson, in her "Cooking Manual," indorses a salad similar to this, 
and also says this spinach salad is nice dressed with a rissole sauce made as 
follows : 

Clean and chop a few salad herbs, put one teaspoonful of each into a small 
pan, with a tablespoonful of meat jelly or thick stock, a little pepper and 
salt. Stir till the jelly is dissolved and hot; then add one tablespoonful of 
vinegar, two of oil, and, when thoroughly mixed, pour over the spinach. 

SWISS DRESSING. 

Pound two ounces of old cheese in a mortar, add one tablespoonful of 
vinegar, a little salt and pepper, and dilute to the consistency of cream 
•with oil. 

CHICKEN SALAD. 

Put the chickens, after they are cleaned and washed, into a deep dish, and 
steam till tender, or boil in very little water if you have no steamer. Cut 
the meat all off in small pieces, dark and liglit, unless desirous of an elegant 
dish for company or show. Cut up fine well-cleaned, tender white celery, 
having an equal quantity with the meat (a pint for a pint). Mix well 
together. Add four hard-boiled eggs chopped fine to every quart of the 
chicken and celery; and, if liked, one small potato rolled till perfectly 
smooth. Beat in half a tea-cup (not coffee-cup) of softened butter, a tea- 
spoonful each of pepper, salt and mustard. Beat three raw eggs together 
very thoroughly, and pour into this mixture, pouring in gently wiih one 



544 SALADS AND SA UCES. 

hand while beating all together with the other. When these are thoroughly 
incorporated with the whole, beat in a half cup (scant) of vinegar or sour 
orange-juice. Instead of butter, salad-oil may be used. It is always used 
instead of butter by those who do not dislike the flavor. 

A SIMPLE SALAD, 
A scant pint of cold boiled or roasted meat cut in small dice. Veal, lamb 
or chicken can be used, or even two kinds of meat, if you have not enough 
of one. Twice as much cabbage as meat. Only that part of the cabbage 
which is white and brittle should be used, and it can be chopped about as 
fine as the meat is cut. The dressing: One-half pint vinegar, one heaping 
tablespoonful sugar, one teaspoonful dry mustard, two eggs, a little salt and 
pepper; heat the ingredients over hot water, stirring constantly to prevent 
curdling, and remove from the fire as soon as it thickens; then add a piece 
of butter half the size of an egg, and pour it hot over the meat. When it is 
entirely cold, stir in the cabbage. 

LOBSTER SALAD. 
Lobsters require to be boiled from fifteen to twenty minutes, and when 
taken out of the kettle should be broken in two; that is, the body should be 
separated from the tail before it is placed in a colander to drain. When 
perfectly cold, cut all the fleeh into dice, and put it into a salad-bowl with 
the soft portion of the inside, and mix with it some lettuce cut very small, 
salt, pepper, vinegar, mustard and a very little oil. Place it, when well 
mixed, in the center of a glass dish like a mound, and spread a mayonnaise 
sauce over it. Decorate it with the center leaves of the lettuce, hard-boiled 
eggs cut in halves or slices, or in fancy shapes, capers, beets and slices of 
lemon. As the center dish in the table, it may be further decorated by two 
or three flowers placed on the summit. 

POTATO SALAD. 
Ten potatoes cut fine, the French dressing with four or five drops of onion- 
juice in it, one tablespoonful of chopped parsley. Onion-juice is obtained 
by first peeling the onion, and then grating. 

FRENCH SALAD DRESSESfG. 
Three tablespoonfuls of oil, one tablespoonful of vinegar, one salt-spoon- 
ful of salt, one-half of pepper. Put the salt and pepper in a cup, and then 
add one tablespoonful of the oil. When all is thoroughly mixed, add the 
remainder of the oil and the vinegar. This is dressing enough for a salad 
for six persons. 



SALADS AND SAUCES. 545 

CARROT SALAD. 

Take very fine rich-colored carrots, scrape and boil rapidly till tender. 
When done, cut into very thin slices, and put into a glass salad-bowl, 
sprinkle with sifted loaf-sugar, and squeeze over it the juice of a large, fresh 
lemon, and pour on a wine-glass of olive-oil, or, if jircferred, the same amount 
of thick, sweet cream. If the latter, put it on just as it is sient to the table; 
place round the edge of the dish an onion cut in exceedingly thin slices, and 
small bunchess of water-cress or any fresh, green salad-leaves. 

COLD-SLAW. 

Shave a solid head of cabbage very fine, pour over it half a tea-cup of 
boiling vinegar (good cider-vinegar), set the dish in which the cabbage is" 
into a kettle half full of boiling water, and let it cook while the dressing is. 
being prepared. Beat up two eggs very light, put to them one teaspoonful 
of mixed mustard, one teaspoonful of salt, and one and a half of sugar; add 
a large tablespoonful of melted butter, and a very little cayenne pepper. 
Beat these ingredients with the egg very light, and pour all over the cabbage,, 
removing it instantly from the kettle of boiling water, as the egg will curdle 
if mixed with it Avhile over the fire. Stir all lightly together, and serve at 
once. 

Some shave the cabbage, and boil it twenty minutes in just w'ater enoughi 
to cover it, then drain off the water and mix the dressing with the cabbage;: 
but we think this not so good as to steam the cabbage without water while 
preparing the dressing. 

PLAIN SALAD DRESSING. 
Put one teaspoonful made mustard into the salad-bowl and one teaspoon- 
ful of sugar; add two tablespoonfuls of salad-oil, drop by drop, stirring it 
well together as the oil is added, or three tablespoonfuls of the thickest, rich- 
est sweet cream instead of the oil; then, when well mixed, if oil is used, add 
four tablespoonfuls of milk (if cream is used, three tablespoonfuls of milk 
will answer), and two of vinegar — the vinegar to be added after the milk 
very gradually, .stirring all the time, else tlie sauce will curdle and be 
spoiled. When well mixed and as smooth as cream, add cayenne pepper 
and salt to suit the taste. The ingredients can not be added too carefully, 
or beaten too much. 

SALAD DRESSING. 

Boil two eggs fifteen minutes, and rub two teaspoonfuls of grated horse- 
radish, dry, into the yolks of the eggs, until perfectly smooth; then rub in 
a tablespoonful of white sugar, half a teaspoonful of salt, the same of black 

pepper, with not quite as much cavenne pepper, and two tablespoonfuls of 
35 



546 SALADS AND SAUCES. 

thick cream ; mix and rub all together until perfectly smooth ; then add, by- 
degrees, four tablespoonfuls of pure cider-vinegar. 

This is an excellent cold dressing for cabbage or lettuce. 

If preferred, a tablespoonful of salad-oil may be substituted for the 
cream, and a tablespoonful of dry mustard in place of the horseradish. 

CHICKEN SALAD WITHOUT OIL. 

Boil a large-sized chicken two hours; after removing all the skin and fat, 
chop line ; add the same quantity of finely-chopped celery ; take the yolks of 
three hard-boiled eggs, and with a wooden or silver spoon mash them per- 
fectly smooth, and make into a soft paste with one and a half tablespoonfuls 
of sweet butter, and when quite smooth add two well-beaten eggs — let them 
be beaten whites and yolks together, but as light as possible ; stir them to 
the paste of hard-boiled yolks and butter, then stir into the chicken and 
celery, adding a little salt and pepper. For the dressing, bring one pint of 
si^-eet milk, or two-thirds that quantity of rich cream, to the boiling point, 
and stir to it two well-beaten eggs — whites and yolks beaten separately ; re- 
move from the fire as soon as the eggs are added that they may be not too 
much cooked. As soon as this is cold, have ready one tablespoonful of 
ground mustard, made perfectly smooth with two tablespoonfuls of best 
cider-vinegar, and as much more pepper and salt as may be needed; then 
mix this nicely with tlie chicken and celery, place in a salad-bowl, and trim 
the edges with blanched lettuce or nice celery-leaves. 

MIXED SANDWICHES. 

Chop cold chicken, tongue and ham very fine. Melt half a cup of butter, 
add a dessert-spoonful good mustard, if liked, a little pepper, and stir it with 
the beaten yolk of one egg into the meat, and spread on thin slices of bread 
neatly trimmed and buttered. Or, chop line such parts of a well-boiled or 
baked ham as can not be cut in neat slices for the table, add four tablespoon- 
fuls melted butter, mustard if liked, and pepper, chop up two or three hard- 
boiled eggs and the well-beaten yolk of one, to bind the whole together, and 
stii- up the whole with the ham till well mixed, and spread on nicely-cut 
slices of bread, well buttered. 

Some like salad-oil mixed with the butter. But in making sandwiches, 
unless for the family, where the taste of all should be well known to the 
mistress, it is not safe to use oil or mustard for the whole ; but it can be 
divided, and part of the sandwiches prepared with oil and mustard, part 
plain, and a third part with mustard and no oil. 

GREEN TOMATO SAUCE. 
'•One gallon green but full-grown tomatoes ; one pint of fresh onions chopped 
very fine; one and a half pints of sugar, if liked rather sweet — if not, one 



SALADS AND SA UCES. 547 

jiint will sufiRce; two even tablespoonfuls of salt; one of ground black 
pepper; one tablespoonful of ground cloves; one of ground cinnamon; one 
and a half tablespoonfuls of ground mustard; one even, rather scant table- 
.spoonful of red pepper, and two pints of vinegar. The ground spice should 
be tied in a muslin bag, but a few whole cloves and bits of cinnamon may 
be thrown in with the tomatoes. Boil all together in a porcelain-lined 
kettle till quite tender. Put up into air-tight jars and closely. 
This ia much liked by some, to eat with fresh meats. 



COLD SLAW. 

Cut a solid, tender head of cabbage very fine. Sprinkle salt and pepper 
over it, and set in refrigerator or some place where it will keep cool till 
needed. Beat up three eggs, six spoonfuls of good cider-vinegar, four large 
tablespoonfuls of sugar, two-thirds of a teaspoooful of made mustard, half a 
tablespoonful of butter. Set this over the fire, stir until it becomes a 
smooth paste, set aside to cool, and mix with the cold cabbage when needed. 
It ia excellent to eat with fried oysters. 

BENGAL CURRY. 

Twelve ounces best tumeric, eight ounces coriander seed, six ounces very 
best ginger, five ounces mustard, five ounces black pepper, one and a half 
ounces cayenne, one-half ounce cardamums, one-half ounce cummin, one- 
half ounce cinnamon, one-quarter ounce pimento, all finely powdered. These 
ingredients are put into a large bowl, and thoroughly mixed together. A 
number of small bottles are got ready, into which the powder is placed and 
pressed down, and if corks are used, these are carefully sealed over so as to 
exclude the air entirely. One bottle at a time is opened for use, and thus 
the quantity made will last a long time. Having secured our curry- 
powder, let us now proceed to make our curry and boil our rice a la Bengal. 
As a rule, a knife is never employed when one is eating curry, as it is always 
so thoroughly cooked that a fork and spoon only are needed. But the time 
occupied in cooking, of course, varies according to the meat used. For 
brevity, let us take veal, say four pounds of the lean part of the breast of 
veal, to avoid much fat. Cut this all up in small pieces, and put them in a 
sauce-iian with an ounce of sweet butter, two large tablespoonfuls of curry- 
powder, two large onions cut very fine, four or five small cloves of garlic, 
chopped up finely, and some nice, streaky bacon cut up in thin, small slices; 
stir all up together, and put it on a gentle fire, covering the sauce-pan, and 
only uncovering it to stir it, which should be done very frequently. The 
heat speedily draws out the juices of the meat, forming suflBcient gravy to 
prevent burning ; after awhile the sauce-pan is drawn almost ofT the fire, bo 



648 SALADS AND SAUCES. 

as to keep the contents at a gentle simmer only, and it continues at this 
until the gravy is pretty well dried up, when a large-sized breakfast-cupful 
of fresh milk is added gradually, so as not to cool it too much, and salt to 
taste. The sauce-pan is again placed on the fire for a few moments to bring 
it rapidly to the boil, then drawn back and kept once more gently simmer- 
ing until quite done, stirring very frequently. It should occupy three to 
four hours in cooking, and never be galloped. When served up to the table,, 
it ought to be as hot as possible, but all the fat must be previously skimmed 
ofT. It is well to remember that this " curry fat " is far better than butter 
for frying fish with. Half an hour or more before tlie curry is required on 
the table, begin to cook the rice. Fine Patna or Carolina is the best, of 
■which take one measure, putting in three such measures of water, and boil 
rapidly, but never on any consideration stir or shake it up. When it is per- 
ceived that the water shows no longer on the rice, draw the sauce-pan on to 
the hob, and give a little time for the rice to dry, which it soon does, when 
it will all turn out beautifully cooked, and each grain separate. This is the 
only proper mode of cooking rice. In serving up, the curry should be in, 
one (covered) side-dish, the rice in another, and both quite hot. 

CURRY FOR COLD MEATS. 

Take two large onions and a clove of garlic; slice the onions and fry them 
and the garlip in butter, sprinkling them as they fry with curry-powder; cut 
the meat into slices, and flour them well. Place them in a stew-pan, pepper 
and salt them, add a boiled potato cut into dice, a sliced apple, two or three 
cloves, and some lemon-juice; take good stock, thicken it with flour, and 
make a gravy by pouring it into the frying-pan with the fried onions; stir it, 
and add curry-powder to it as it boils; then strain it over the sliced meat^ 
let it just come to the boil again, and serve with boiled rice. 

TO USE CURRY DRY. 
Cut the meat into small pieces, and dip it into curry-powder; have a large 
onion and a clove of garlic ready to fry ; place some butter in the frying- 
pan, and then add the meat, the onions, and some more curry-powder, if liked,, 
hot, some salt, pepper, cayenne and lemon-juice ; let it fry all together until 
the onions are done; then put it out of the frying-pan on to a hot dish, and 
serve with boiled rice. 

CURRIED EGGS. 

Slice one carrot, two onions, a large apple and a little celery. Fry them 
in two ounces of butter until nicely glazed. Add a pint of broth, a few all- 
spice, a blade of mace, a teaspoonful of curry-powder, a little flour for thick- 
ening, and season with salt and pepper. Wash four ounces of rice, and put 



BUTTER AND CHEESE. 549 

it to cook in plenty of boiling, salted water for ten minutes; then drain and 
fiteam on the back of the stove until done. Boil twelve eggs for fifteen 
minutes; then remove the shells and lay the eggs in a warm platter, strain 
the sauce over them, and make a border of the rice. 

INDIAN HODGE-PODGE. 
Mince three large onions tine and fry them in butter. Add three pints of 
good broth and a quart of split pease soaked over night in cold water. Sim- 
mer two hours or longer, then put in two tablespoonfuls of curry-powder 
mixed with cold water, and seasoned to taste with salt and pepper. 

A BOUQUET OF HERBS. 

A bouquet of herbs is made by tying together a few sprigs of pars^ley, 
thyme and two bay leaves. When gathering any of our garden herbs, they 
should be well dried, then tke leaves should be stripped off and rubbed through 
a sieve, and the fine powder put into bottles; but tlie stalks may be tied to- 
gether, kept dry, and made into this " bouquet," to be used for flavoring a soup, 
as the dried stalk is just as good for such purposes as the leaves. Or, if you 
have no vegetable garden, the material to make "a real French bouquet" 
can be obtained at any druggist's. 



BUTTER AND CHEESE. 

CREAM AND MILK FERMENTING. 

If on taking down a pan of milk to be skimmed there is found a thin layer 
of whey under the cream, and under that thick sour milk, all hope of making 
good sweet butter from that cream may as well be relinquished. It is next 
to impossible. If such cream could be churned immediately, and under the 
very best condition, it is possible to make a fair quality of butter for imme- 
diate use, but, as a rule, such cream had better be kept out of the cream-jar. 
Cream taken from sour milk which has progressed in fermentation so far ag 
to separate its whey will almost invariably give a strong, cheesy flavor to the 
butter made from it. Good cheese is good in its place, but most persons 
prefer to have their butter and cheese in separate packages, and dairymen 
ehould not forget this fact. 

We copy this from "Tiie New England Farmer," and know it is correct. 
We have proved its truth by sad experience. 



560 BUTTER AND CHEESE. 

BRINE TO PRESERVE BUTTER A YEAR. 

To three gallons of brine strong enough to bear an egg, add a quarter of a 
pound of nice white sugar and one tablespoonful of saltpeter. Boil the brine, 
and when it is cold strain carefully. Make your butter into rolls, and wrap 
each separately in a clean, white muslin cloth, tying it up with a string. 
Pack a large jar full, weight the butter down, and pour over it the brine 
until all is submerged. This will keep really good butter perfectly sweet 
and fresh for a whole year. Be careful not to put upon ice butter that you 
wish to keep for any length of time. In summer, when the heat will not 
admit of small jars, take large ones, and, using the same brine, allow it to 
cover the butter to the depth of at least four inches. This excludes the air, 
and answers as well as the first method suggested. We copy this from " The 
Dutchess Farmer." 

CREAM CHEESE. 

Stir a little salt into a pan of cream — that has soured quickly and grown 
firm without becoming strong — and suspend it in a muslin bag, to drain. 
Eemove it to a fresh bag every morning, and at the end of three days pack 
it in round, straight-sided wooden molds, that have holes in the bottom. 
Wet the molds before putting in the curd, and press for two hours. The 
cheese may be kept for several days by wrapping it in tissue-paper and 
placing where it is cool. Tliis is a very good imitation of the Xeu/chatd 
French cheese; or, 

Three quarts sweet milk, two quarts cream, and enough rennet to set it. 
When it is set, do not break it, but drain it as gently as possible. Lay a 
strong cloth in a hoop — any box with top and bottom out, well cleaned, will 
answer. Place the curd in the cloth, fold the cloth over the top, put a weight, 
not too heavy, on top to press it. The weight should be even, covering the 
whole top. Let it remain under pressure one day, then take it from the 
hoop and rub with salt. It will be ready for the table in three or four 
days. 

CHEESE STRAWS. 

Break into a quarter of a pound of flour two ounces of butter, and rub 
with the hands till a smooth paste. Add to it two ounces of good cheese, 
grated on a bread-grater, the yolks of two eggs, and the white if one well 
beaten; season with cayenne-pepper and salt to suit the taste. Mix all thor- 
oughly together, and roll out this paste a trifle less than a quarter of an inch 
thick, and put on a well-buttered tin; then cut in very narrow strips four or 
five inches long. Bake in a moderate oven five or six minutes, a light golden 
brown, and serve hot. When done they must be removed from the tin with 
care, so as to be served unbroken. 



BUTTER AND CHEESE. 551 

A NICE chep:se relish. 

Four ounces of Hour, four ounces of cheese, and three of butter; salt, pep- 
per and a dash of cayenne-pepper; knead it all together, roll thin, cut in 
strips like lady's-fingers, and bake a delicate brown. 

CHEESE SOUP. 

To one pint and a half rich milk add one cup grated or linely-cut cheese, 
a little salt, pepper and butter. Set it over the fire and bring to a scald; 
then add two well-beaten eggs. Let it remain but an instant over the fire 
after the eggs are added, or it will curdle. Serve hot for a tea relish. The 
flavor is like that of an oyster stew. It is very good without eggs. 

This is an economical way to use dry bits of cheese. 

TO USE PIECES OF DRY CHEESE. 

Grate any dry bits into a small dish, and set on the table to be served 
with a spoon, is one way; or, take a pint of grated cheese, one pint of bread- 
crumbs, a little nutmeg — if a flavoring other than the cheese is fancied — and 
one teaspoonful of salt. Put this with a tablespoonful of butter into a pint 
of boiling milk; stir all together thoroughly ; cover up closely and set on the 
back of the range three or four hours before the time when it is to be eaten. 
Stir it now and then; but do not let it boil, only thoroughly dissolve the 
cheese. Half an hour before it is needed, butter a deep dish, pour in this 
mixture, and .set into the oven to brown delicately. Serve hot. 

SANDWICH WITH CHEESE. 

Cut up fine any bits of cheese that can not well be used any other way: 
pour to the cheese a cup of cream, a little butter, and let it heat slowly till 
the cheese is melted and the whole becomes a paste; then spread between, 
two slices of bread and use with lunch. 

CHEESE FROM POTATOES. 

A foreign journal describes the process of making cheese from potatoes — 
much used in Thuringia and Saxony — as follows: 

After having collected a quantity of potatoes of good quality, giving the 
preference to a large, white kind, they are boiled in a caldron, and after be- 
coming cool they are peeled and reduced to a pulp, either by means of a 
grater or mortar. To five pounds of this pulp, which ought to be as equal as 
possible, is added one pound of sour milk and the necessary quantity of salt. 
The whole is kneaded together, and the mixture covered up and allowed to 
lie for three or four days, according to the season. At the end of this time 
it is kneaded anew, and the cheeses are placed in little baskets, when the 
superfluous moisture escapes. They are then allowed to dry in the shade. 



552 BUTTER AND CHEESE. 

and placed in layers in large vessels, where they must remain for fifteen days. 
The older these cheeses are, the more their quality improves. 

Three kinds are made — the first and most common is made as detailed 
above; the second, with four parts of potatoes and two parts of curdled milk ; 
the third, with two parts of potatoes and four parts of cow or ewe milk. These 
cheeses have this advantage over other kinds, that they do not engender 
worms, and keep fresh for a number of years, provided they are placed in a 
dry situation, and in well-closed vessels. 

A CHAMPION DAIRY. 

Mr. Lane, of Leeds, Maine, gives his experiment in the dairy business — 
which he has made an especial study for years — as follows : 

"I prefer grade Jerseys for butter-making, over all others, so far as my 
experience goes. I am feeding this winter on hay and shorts exclusively. I 
get shorts of an extra quality, and find them worth more than the same qual- 
ity of meal. Shorts keep the cows much healthier. I feed twice a day 
giving each meal, forenoon and afternoon, not all at once, but in install- 
ments. I churn twice a week in the winter, and three times a week in the 
summer. I use a Cooley creamery and churn. T allow the milk to stand 
twenty-four hours before skimming. I have a butter-worker of my own in- 
vention. It is on the direct pressure principle. Rolling and other principles 
are prejudicial to the butter, I think. Unlike many others, I fetch my but- 
ter in granules, instead of in a mass. This method has been adopted by the 
most of the leading butter-makers, now. By it, you are able to wash your 
butter more thoroughly, and get out the butter-milk. The process is done by 
reducing the temperature in your churn, by the use of cold water. We put 
the cream into the churn of a temperature of 62°. By the churning motion 
this is raised to 67°. To bring the granules we reduce it to 55°. 

" One of the secrets of good butter-making is exactness. We do every 
thing by thermometer and scales. Good, even butter can be made in no 
other way. You can't be careless and make good butter. Our butter don't 
vary, preceptibly, from one year's end to another. We weigh our cream at 
every churning, and weigh all our salt. My way of salting my butter differs 
from that generally in vogue. We stir the salt in among the granules. We put 
in from one-half ounce to an ounce of salt to a pound of butter. We make 
eighty pounds of butter per week, this winter. In June we got one hundred 
and fifty pounds. We market all our butter in Portland. It now sells for 
forty cents per pound. 

" We put all our skim-milk into pork. Last fall I sold 4,200 pounds of 
pork, at ten cents per pound for the dressed pigs. They were butchered when 
they were seven months old. They averaged 283 pounds. We sell them in 
Portland and get a price above the market, because people know what 
they're fed on." 



DRINKS AND CORDIALS. 553 

CLOTTED OR DEVONSHIRE CREAM. 
Strain the milk into pans and place on a pot of boiling water. Watch, and 
when rings appear on the surface, remove to the dairy and allow to stand 
twelve, twenty-four or thirty-six hours, according to the season and temper- 
ature. In Devonshire the cream is usually as thick as butter when first it comes, 
and in families where they have cows the cook thoroughly prepares her hands 
by washing them in the hottest water she can bear, and then makes the but- 
ter for breakfast. There the milk is often left for twelve hours before it is 
placed over the hot water; but I have found that in this climate it is safer 
to heat it at once. A good rule is, " If it boils, it spoils." It must only^scald. 



DRINKS AND CORDIALS. 

BEEF-TEA. 

As beef-tea is a very important source of nourishment for delicate people 
and for those very sick, being often almost the only hope of sustaining life, 
it seems quite important that all the different modes of preparing it should 
be well understood. With no one is the taste so capricious as with invalids, 
and every mode of making the beef-tea has its own special flavor. The 
whole art of making this important beverage seems to depend on preparing 
it to suit the person needing it. To succeed, or to attain any measure of 
success, beef-tea must be for the time being the supreme object of one's en- 
deavor, and should be made fresh at least three times a day, and never twice 
alike. This advice is adapted to the case of a patient critically ill with fever 
or some other disease which must run its course, and when the fight is for 
life. In many cases, no doubt, the sick starve, surrounded by the most lov- 
ing care and most skillful physicians, because it is supposed that they can 
retain nothing on the stomach that has really any nourisment in it without 
aggravating the disease, and no one is brave enough to counsel or demand 
more heroic treatment. It is a source of great thankfulness that medical ad- 
visers are learning to counteract disease by building up — sustaining the 
system by nourishing, stimulating diet — where once the patient was allowed 
to waste and sink away to death. The writer of this letter advocates this 
nourishing process by a cautious, delicate use of beef-tea. 

The best portions of the beef make the best tea. The mode of making it 
given in the "Christian Union" of February 13, is thoroughly good, al- 
though one pound of meat does not go far where constant building up ia the 



554 BRINKS AND CORDIALS. 

only safety. The writer has used fifteen pounds in three days, with success 
in a case of pneumonia almost past saving. 

An ordinary glass jar, such as is used for canning fruit, with the glass 
cover laid over the top, is very convenient, but, like all other receptacles, 
must be thoroughly cleansed and aired after using before using again.^ 
Scrupulous cleanliness is very essential. 

If in great haste, the juiciest portion of the beef held over a brisk fire un- 
til heated, but not cooked, and then squeezed hard through a perfectly clean 
lemon-squeezer, is an excellent way, and makes a palatable article with the 
addition of a little salt. Salt is the only seasoning usually allowed. 

When the patient tires of these modes, scrape with a sharp knife enough 
lean, juicy beef to fill a pint-bowl, add a little water, cover close, and set in ■ 
the oven and let it bake slowly. When about half done, remove tlie cover, 
and let it brown a little, then cover again, and let it cook awhile longer. 
Beef-tea made after this last mode has been accepted in cases where all 
other ways have failed. 

Never approach a patient with a spoon in the hand when about to give 
nourishment. Put just what you wish taken, and no more, in the daintiest 
and prettiest tea-cup in the house. Have the tea of just the right temper- 
ature, and let the patient drink it from the cup, but remove the cup from 
the room as soon as used, and wash, scald and put it in its proper place. 
When more tea is needed, take another and entirely different cup. This 
seems a little thing, but the comfort of the sick must depend largely on lit- 
tle things, and who shall blame them if sometimes fanciful or unreasonable? 

VIENNA COFFEE. 

The coffee can be prepared either by the French method of filtering, or by 
the more common method of making in a cofFee-pot, only taking care that 
the water is boiling, bubbling hot when poured over the coffee, that it is 
covered closely and only boiled one minute, then left to simmer five minutes. 
To be made strong or weak, to suit the taste. The one important dissimi- 
larity is to put a pint of rich cream into a milk-boiler, Avith boiling water in 
the under part. Keep the water boiling under the cream ; beat the white 
of an egg to a stiff" froth, then stir to it three tablespoonfuls of 'cold milk. 
As soon as the cream is scalding hot remove from the fire, add the white of 
the egg and cold milk, stir briskly for a minute or two, and send to the table 
to use with the coffee. It is a wonderful improvement on the common way 
of preparing coffee. 

SHELLS OF COCOA. 
Soak a teacupful of the shells over night in a pint of cold water, in a 
warm place. In the morning set them over the fire, and boil steadily one 
hour. Serve with hot milk or cream ; or, 



CONFECTIONERY. 555 

Wet two ounces of shells, or cocoa nibs, in a little cold water, and pour 
them to one quart of boiling water, and cook one and a half hours. Then 
strain it; put in one quart of fresh milk. Get again over the lire until al- 
most boiling; take from the fire and serve. This is more delicate than the 
first way, and excellent for sick people — if they are fond of the chocolate 
taste. 

BLACKERRY CORDIAL. 

Blackberry cordial is a home-made medicine of much value during Au- 
gust as a remedy for diarrhoea: To one quart of blackberry juice add one 
pound of wliite sugar, one tablespoonful each of cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg 
and allspice. Boil all together for fifteen or twenty minutes; take from the 
fire, and add a wine-glassful of brandy or Jamaica rum. AVhile still hot, 
put in bottles with stout corks, and seal if not intended for immediate use. 
A tablespoonful three or four times a day is the usual dose, though in 
severe cases it may be increased to a small wine-glassful. 



CONFECTIONERY. 



CREAM CANDY. 

Take as much sugar as you desire to make into candy, and add an equal 
quantity of cold water. Wet a little starch — about two teaspoonfuls of 
starch to every cup of sugar; rub it smooth and set aside for use. Set the 
sugar and water over the fire to boil, but do not stir after it begins to boil. 
Let it boil till it hardens readily when dropped into cold water. As soon 
as it has reached that state pour in the starch, stirring rapidly ; and let it 
boil, while being constantly stirred, for a minute or two. Then pour into a 
well-buttered dish, and set aside until cool enough to work with the hands. 
Add to it while working such flavoring as is preferred. Work till very 
light; draw it out into a flat piece, and cut into sticks. 

BUTTER-SCOTCH CANDY'. 

Four cups of brown sugar, two of butter, two tablespoonfuls vinegar, and 
the same of water. When boiling, drop in a salt-spoonful of soda. Boil 
half an hour. If at the end of that time it is crisp when a little is dropped 
into water it is ready to take up; or, 

Three tablespoonfuls of molasses, two of sugar, two of water, one of butter. 
Boil till crisp, and just before taking up add a very little soda ; or, 



656 MUSHROOMS. 

Two cups sugar, half a cup butter, a little more than half a cup of vin- 
egar. Boil until brittle when tried in water, and then pour into buttered 
pans ; or, 

Three pounds sugar (the "Coffee A"), one quarter of a pound of butter, 
half teaspoonful cream of tartar, eight drops extract of lemon, orange or a 
little wintergreen. Add enough cold water to dissolve the sugar. Boil 
without stirring till it breaks readily when dropped in cold water. Then 
add the lemon, orange, or whatever is best liked for flavor, and pour about 
a quarter of an inch thick into a well-buttered pan. When partly cold, cross 
off into squares. If pulled when nearly cold, this is the ice-cream candy. 

PEANUT CANDY. 

The thick peanut candy sold by the confectioners is made by removing the 
shells and skins from roasted nuts, putting them an inch thick in a buttered 
tin pan, and pouring over them sufficient sugar boiled to a caramel point to 
hold the nuts together, but not to cover them ; directly after sugar has 
reached the degree of boiling indicated in the preceding receipt, it begins to 
burn ; at this moment the sugar-boiler must be taken from the fire, set at 
once into a pan of cold water to check the boiling, and the caramel, as the 
boiled sugar is now called, is poured over the nuts. White sugar is to be used 
in making this candy. 



MUSHROOMS. 

Our fields, meadows and forests abound with plants and roots that could 
be converted into most nutritious and enjoyable food if their natures — pecul- 
iar properties — were studied with reference to praotical use. But many 
studies over which our children toil in schools, academies and colleges, when 
passing through the prescribed course to secure a finished education, are of 
little worth when the boys and girls reach maturity, because study has been 
merely routine work, without any instruction that could prepare the pupils for 
putting what they have learned into practical use. This is particularly the 
case in the study of botany and chemistry. For instance, a young lady, on 
graduating at one of our best colleges, was ranked among the first in chem- 
istry; but when she had graduated and returned home, it became necessary 
that she should take charge of the cooking department. But her chemical 
knowledge gave her no assistance, nor enabled her to give a reason for any 
combination, even in the simple one of bread-making. 



MUSHROOMS. 557 

How many of the most intelligent of our school-girl botanists have any- 
practical knowledge of the use and value of the various kinds of mmhroornsf 
Do they even know that, by skillful preparation and combination, they could 
furnish tlie family table with many of the most delicate and nutritious dishes ? 
But for lack of knowledge — practical knowledge — this one example, out of 
many others, of the rich supplies our woods, fields and pastures are filled 
with, is perfectly useless, save among a few families. 

The " Domestic Cyclopaedia," published by Holt & Company, after giving 
some simple rules to distinguish the true edible mushroom from the poison- 
ous, says : 

"The mushroom is considered by many, one of the gi-eatest delicacies 
known to our tables, and its richness in nitrogenous elements makes it one 
of the most nutritious of all the edible vegetables ; but there are several 
kinds of poisonous fungi which so closely resemble the edible mushroom 
that no one should venture to eat of any unfamiliar variety without first 
knowing certainly how to select the proper kind." 

There are many kinds of the edible mushrooms that are very nutritious 
and agreeable ; but because there are some poisonous kinds, very few will vent- 
ure to eat more than two or three kinds, denying themselves a very health- 
ful and excellent dish through their ignorance; whereas a very little care 
and study would enable any one to choose correctly — intelligently — and thus 
secure the satisfaction of using many pleasant varieties. 

Mr. Curtis, the botanist, writes that he lias eaten forty species of edible 
fungi, or mushrooms, within two miles of his residence, and had found many 
of those held in greatest esteem in England, France and Italy, in great 
abundance in North Carolina. He had found io that State alone one hiin- 
tlred and eleven varieties. The favorite fungi of Italy, and there regarded as 
the most delicious of all mushrooms, Mr. Curtis finds in North Carolina, and 
names it the Imperial Mushroom. 

The fairy-ring champignon is the most highly-flavored of all the fungi, 
and may be kept in a dry state for years without losing its aroma. 

The "American Cyclopaedia," from which we have gleaned much, gives 
very valuable information connected with all the most important mushrooms; 
but we can not linger longer. 

As a general rule, the edible fungi have an agreeable smell and taste, and 
all mushrooms in a fresh state that have a repulsive odor and acrid taste 
must be rejected. The edible mushrooms are most plentiful in August and 
September, and spring up in the open fields after low-lying fogs or heavy 
dews. In gathering them avoid low, damp, shady spots, as those growing in 
such places are seldom good. Every edible mushroom has a decidedly pleas- 
ant flavor, and is never shiny; but the poisonous ones have either a bad 
smell or none at all. But a better test is to sprinkle salt on the spongy part 
or gill of the mushroom. If they turn yellow, they are poisonous ; but if 



558 . MUSHROOMS. 

they turn black they are good. Let the salt remain on a little while before 
deciding. Another simple test, and reliable, is to cook a peeled tvhite onion in 
the pot with the mushroom. If it turns black, throw the mushrooms away; 
they are poisonous. If a silver spoon turns black while stirring mushrooms, 
they are poisonous. The young button, as it is called, of the edible mush- 
room, has the top or cap quite whfte, while the gills or under part are loose, and 
of a light red or flesh-color. As they increase in size and age, the top changes 
to a tawny or brown color, and looks scarry, and the gills change to a darker 
red or black. The stem, which should be white and round when young, 
grows dark with age. The upper skin of the edible mushroom peels off read- 
ily ; that of the poisonous fungi does not. The stem is sometimes formed perfectly 
round, and, when smooth and white, is the best kind of mushroom. 

Professor Ponfick, of Breslau, after making many experiments on the com- 
mon mushroom, concludes that all are poisonous until washing and cooking 
destroy their poisonous qualities. " The repeated washing that mxist be 
given takes a portion of the poison away, and cooking does the rest. But 
the water in which they are boiled or scalded should always be drained ofT 
carefully and thrown away, as that contains the poison, the water being far 
more injurious even than the raw mushroom." 

The professor considers the dried mushrooms dangerous until they have 
been dried at least a month, and still safer if they are not used for four 
months after drying. 

With all respect for the learned professor, we can not quite agree with his 
conclusions after his various experiments. We have used several kinds of 
mushrooms very freely at' our own table and at a neighbor's, cooked in vari- 
ous ways, and if all who partook of this luxury have been injured in any 
degree by them, we must say it takes a long time to develop the injury. 

But there is no doubt that they should be well washed and. boiled for a 
few minutes. It is so with the cassava or manioc plant. The juices of the 
root are poisonous, and are used by some savage tribes to poison their arrows 
with when going to war. But after grating and pressure to extract all the 
juice, and washing the pulp, as in making potato-starch, it becomes not only 
harmless, but most nutritious and useful, being made into bread, cake, starch, 
etc. Tapioca is purified cassava. 

We now give a number of well-tried receipts for cooking mushrooms; but 
there are very many others which we have not space to quote. 

BAKED MUSHROOMS. 

Select large ones; trim the stalks and remove the skins with a damp cloth. 
Place them on oval cr6utens, and set in a baking-pan. Season with salt, 
pepper, lemon-juice and chopped parsley. Cook in a hot oven five or six 
minutes^ basting often in rich, hot gravy in which a lump of butter hae been 



MUSHROOMS. 559 

melted. Arrange the cr6utens or shells on their dish, and pour over them 
the gravy. Serve sauce a la Maitre d' Hotel, in a tureen. To make this sauce: 

MAITRE d'hOTEL SAUCE. 

Beat together a tea-cupful of cream, two ounces of butter, a iablespoonful 
of chopped parsley, a tablespoonful of white sauce, a little cayenne, mace, 
black pepper, salt and, last, two tablespoonfuls of lemon-juice. Put all, 
when well-beaten together, at once in a stew-pan, and stir till hot and thick; 
but on no account let it boil. This is one of the best sauces for eitlier tish or 
meats. 

SHELLS, OR COQUILLES. 

A tasteful variety at a table is a course of something served in shells 
{en coquilles). The natural shells, except oyster shells, are not as pretty as 
plated-silver scallop shells, which are not expensive, and are always on 
hand. By purcbasing a dozen or two of fine, large oysters, and cleaning their 
.shells carefully every time they are used, they will be suitable to use for a 
long time, and can be filled each time with fresh oysters or oysters from the 
can; and oysters, lobsters, shrimps or cold fish of any kind can be served 
" en coquUle " in place of a course of fish ; but chicken or any kind of meat 
prepared for these ^shells, must be served as an entree, or corner dish, for the 
first course. In large dinners, the side-dishes are called Jlaiiis, or custards, 
sweetmeats, etc. 

COQUILLES DE CHAMPIGNONS, OR MUSHROOMS IN SHELLS. 

If the mushrooms are large, cut them in small pieces or dice. Put them 
in boiling water for six or eight minutes; then throw them into cold water to 
whiten them. Wipe dry and "saute," or fry in a sauce-pan with a little butter. 
When a delicate brown, but not quite done, shake in a little flour and 
chopped parsley. When the flour is browned a little, pour in a tea-cupful 
of rich stock, and let all simmer fifteen minutes. Just before it is taken up, 
beat the yolk of one or two eggs, and stir in with a teaspoonful of lemon- 
juice. Fill each shell with this mixture, sprinkle over a few cracker-crumbs 
on top, and brown slightly in a very hot oven just a few minutes before send- 
ing to the table. They should be eaten hot. 

MUSHROOM SAUCE. 

Cut ofi" the stalks, and, if large, cut the mushrooms in halves or quarters, 
and put into a little boiling water, or, what 4s better, boiling stock. Use only 
just what is necessary to cover them. Season with salt, pepper and butter 
to suit the taste. Let them boil till tender, then thicken the ^ravy with a 
"roux" of butter and salt; add a few drops of lemon, and it is ready to serve 
bv pouring over beefsteaks, fillets of beef, etc. 



560 MUSHROOMS. 

A PUREE OF MUSHROOMS, OR SOUP. 

Clean well and cut in pieces a quart of fresh mushrooms; soak them 
awhile in cold water in which the juice of a lemon has been squeezed. Drain 
them, and chop fine. Put over the fire a stew-pan, with a piece of butter the 
size of a duck's egg; when melted, put in the mushrooms. When half fried, 
add the juice of a lemon, and finish the frying; then cover with some roux 
sauce, and let it simmer till it becomes rather thick; strain and use. 

Roux sauce for thickening soups or sauces ; put two ounces of butter in 
a sauce-pan, and set it over a moderate fire; when melted, sprinkle in 
gradually a tablespoonful of flour; stir, and when turned brown use as 
directed. 

OMELET WITH MUSHROOMS. 

Boil the mushrooms in a little water or stock, and add pepper, salt and a tea- 
spoonful of lemon-juice. When just done, sprinkle in enough flour to thicken 
as much as desired. Make a plain omelet, and when ready to be turned 
over, drop part of the mushrooms in the center, turn the omelet over them^ 
and, when dished, pour the remainder of the mushrooms around the omelet, 
and serve. 

CROUTE AUX CHAMPIGNONS, OR MUSHROOMS IN CRUST. 

Take some tender biscuit dough, spread in a little butter to make it more 
tender. Make the cruat three inches in diameter and two inches high, in- 
stead of an oval roll shape. While baking, prepare the mushrooms as for 
• garnishing, mixed with a Beehamel sauce (which will be described later). 
"When the c7-ust is done, cut ofi' a slice from the to^j of each one. (Kemember, 
hot bread or biscuit can be cut without becoming heavy, if it is cut with a 
sharp and hot knife. Dip the knife in boiling water a moment.) Take out 
the crumb or inside of the biscuit or crust, and fill in with the mushrooms, 
prepared as for garnishing, as follows : 

MUSHROOMS FOR GARNISH. 

Separate the button part from the stalk; then peel them with a sharp knife, 
taking off merely the skin; put into a stew-pan with a tablespoonful of 
lemon-juice and two tablespoonfuls of water. Toss them well while cook- 
ing, to impregnate them with the liquor. The lemon-juice keeps them white. 
Pour off" the first water, then put in a tablespoonful butter; pour on enough 
boiling water to make a good sauce, and let them boil till tender. It will 
not take long, and they are ready to use as garnishes or for sauces. 

STEWED BEEP WITH MUSHROOMS. 
Five pounds of beef, as much tenderloin with it as possible ; put it in a, 
pan and set in the hot oven fifteen minutes ; then put the meat in a small 



MUSHROOMS. 561 

porcelain kettle; dredge over it two spoonfuls of flour, and add pepper, Bait, 
a teaspoonful of mace, half a teaspoonful of cloves, and the same of all- 
spice. Now put in enough cold water to cover the meat, and stew slowly 
three hours, keeping it closely covered to keep in all the steam. At the 
end of three hours' unceasing simmering, put in half a tumbler of mush- 
room catsup and a glass of claret, and let it simmer half an hour longer. 
Serve with plenty of gravy 

FILLET OF BEEF WITH MUSHROOMS. 

Cut the fillet into slices an inch thick, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and 
lay them an hour in melted butter in a smooth, clean sauce-pan. At the 
end of that time, set them over a brisk fire; when well browned on one side, 
turn and brown the other. Do not let them scorch. Then lay them in a hot 
dish, keeping it hot. Into the butter which remains in the pan, sprinkle 
one tablespoonful of dry flour, and let it brown; but be very careful that 
it does not scorch. When mixed smoothly with the butter in the pan, and 
nicely browned, add gradually half a cup of boiling water, stirring all the 
time, so as not to lump; add half a wine-glass of mushroom catsu^j, and, if you 
like, the same quantity of Madeira wine. Stir all together over the fire; 
then pour over the Jillet, and serve. 

MUSHROOM CATSUP. 

Select the mushrooms with great care. The under side of the true musR- 
room is pink or flesh-colored when very young, and becomes dark-brown or 
blackish as it grows old, and is very pleasant to the smell ; but the toad-stool 
is not. 

Mushrooms used for catsup should be full-grown mushroom flaps. Be sure 
that they are gathered in dry weather, or the catsup will not keep long. Use 
half a pound of salt to every peck of mushrooms, for catsup. 

Put a layer of mushrooms in a deep earthen pan or dish, sprinkle salt over 
them, cover the salt with another layer of mushrooms, and so on till all are 
in the dish. Let them remain thus a few hours, and then break them in 
pieces. Put the pan in a cool place for three days. Every morning stir 
and mash them up, to extract the juice. At the end of three days measure 
the quantity of juice, and allow for each quart one ounce of allspice, half 
an ounce of ginger, and the same amount of cinnamon or mace, and a 
quarter of an ounce of cayenne. Put the whole into a stone jar, cover it very 
closely, and set the jar into a kettle of boiling water over the fire, and boil 
three hours without stopping; then pour it into a clean sauce-pan, and let 
it simmer half an hour on the side of the range. Pour it into a jug, and set 
in a cool place ; let it stand twelve hours or more. Pour into another jug, 
and let it settle; then strain it off for bottling. Pour through a strainer 
into the bottles; to each quart of liquor add thirty drops of brandv. Cork 
36 



562 MUSHROOMS. 

the bottles very closely. Do not squeeze the mushrooms when straining, but 
pour off very gently ; be careful not to shake the jug when pouring off, so 
that all the sediment will remain behind. It is important that this catsup 
should be perfectly clear, and for that reason it is necessary to pour off so 
often. Strain once, and again strain through a very fine hair-sieve;- and 
if sediment still remains, strain again through a flannel-bag. The bottles 
must be very perfectly corked, and then cemented. Examine occasionally, 
and, if it is working, reboil, adding a few peppercorns. The sediment may 
be bottled for immediate use for flavoring thick soups and gravies. 

TO DRY MUSHROOMS. 

Wipe clean, take away the brown part, and peel off the skin ; then lay the 
mushrooms on sheets of paper to dry in a cool oven, when they will shrivel 
up considerably. When dry, keep in paper-bags, which must be hung up in 
a dry place. When wanted, put them into cold gravy or rich stock ; set 
them over a low fire, and gradually to a simmer, when they will nearly 
regain their natural size. Use as will be directed in various dishes. 

MUSHROOM POWDER FOR SAUCES AND GRAVIES WHEN TOO LATE IN 
THE SEASON FOR FRESH MUSHROOMS. 

First wipe the mushrooms perfectly free from grit and dirt; then peel 
them, removing the black fur ; reject all that are worm-eaten. Put into a 
sauce-pan, and to half a peck of large mushrooms add two onions, sliced, 
twelve cloves, one-fourth of an ounce of powdered mace, and two teaspoonfuls 
of white peppei-, without any water. The mushrooms will furnish all the 
liquor needed. Shake them over a clear fire till all this liquor is dried up, 
but take care that they don't burn. When perfectly dry, arrange them on 
tins; dry in a sloAV oven. When dried, pound fine, put into small, dry bot- 
tles, cork firmly, and then seal the corks and keep in a dry place. If the 
bottles are not perfectly dry before the powder is put in, and also the mush- 
room powder, it will not keep well. 

In using the powder, it should be added to gravies or sauces just before 
serving, when it should then be allowed to boil up once. The flavor imparted 
by this powder is exceedingly good. 

PICKLED MUSHROOMS. 

Choose young button mushrooms for pickling ; rub off the skin with a piece 
of flannel and salt, and cut off the stalks. If very large, take out the red 
inside, and reject all the black ones, as they are too old. Put them in a stew- 
pan, sprinkle salt over thera, and to every quart of mushrooms put two 
blades of pounded mace, one ounce of ground black pepper and one small 
red pepper. Shake them well over a clear fire until the liquor flows, and 



MUSHROOMS. 563 

keep shaking them there until it is all dried up again ; then add as much 
vinegar as will cover them, and let it simmer just one minute; then store 
away in stone jars for use. When perfectly cold, tie down with bladders, and 
keep in a very dry place, and then they will remain good a long time, and 
are generally considered delicious. To be made from first of September to 
middle of October. 

PICKLED MUSHROOMS (NO. 2). 
Take the buttons only, and, when they are quite close, cut the stems off 
even with the gills, rub them with a flannel and some salt till perfectly 
clean. Lay them in an earthen bowl, in salt and water, for forty-eiglit hours; 
then add some pepper, and pour over them enough vinegar to cover them, in 
which black pepper and a little mace has been boiled. The vinegar must be 
perfectly cold before putting it to the mushrooms. Thus pickled, they will 
keep for years. 

MUSHROOMS EN RAGOUT, OR A SAUCE FOR A GARNISH FOR 
ENTREES OR REMOVES. 

Put in a sauce-pan a little stock-parsley, a small quantity of vinegar and 
green onions, chopped fine, with salt and spices. Set over the fire ; when 
about to boil, put in the mushrooms, well cleaned. Let them cook ten min- 
utes, remove from the fire when done, and thicken with beaten yolks of eggs. 
The number of eggs and quantity of mushrooms to be governed by the 
quantity needed. 

A VERY RICH AND GOOD MUSHROOM SAUCE TO SERVE WITH FOWL 

AND RABBITS. 
Rub button mushrooms with a piece of dry flannel and salt, to take off the 
skins. Put them into a stew-pan, and to each pint of mushrooms put a little 
grated nutmeg, one blade of pounded mace, one pint of cream, two ounces of 
butter, salt to suit the taste, and enough flour to thicken, beating the butter 
and flour together before putting them in. Boil the whole ten minutes, stir- 
ring all the time. Pour some of the sauce, when done, over the fowls, rabbit* 
or game, and serve the remainder in a tureen. This is suflacient for one fowl. 
Seasonable from August to October. 

TO STEW MUSHROOMS. 
Trim and rub clean half a pint of large button mushrooms. Put two 
ounces of butter into a stew-pan, and shake over the fire till thoroughly 
melted. Then put in the mushrooms, a teaspoonful of salt, half as much 
pepper, and a blade of mace pounded fine. Stew till the mushrooms are ten- 
der, add a tablespoonful and a half of butter, and serve on a hot dieh. Thus 
prepared, they are usually sent in for breakfast. 



564 MUSHROOMS. 

STEWED MUSHE00M8 (NO, 2). 

Cut off the stalks and pare neatly one pint of mushroom buttons; as fast 
as peeled put them in a basin of water with a little lemon-juice, to keep them 
white. When all are prepared, take them from the water with the hands, to 
avoid any sediment adhering to them. Put them in a sauce-pan with three 
ounces of fresh butter, white pepper and salt, to suit the taste ; add juice of 
half a lemon, one-fourth of a grated nutmeg; cover the stew-pan clo.sely, and 
let all stew gently from twenty to twenty-five minutes; sift in one teaspoonful 
of flour, and add sufficient cream, or cream and milk, to make the stew of 
proper consistency. If the mushrooms do not seem perfectly tender, stew 
five minutes longer; remove every particle of butter which may float on the- 
top, and serve. 

ANOTHER WAY FOR MUSHROOM SAUCE. 

Stew one tea-cup of youjig and well-cleaned mushrooms in barely enough 
■water to cover theni, until tender. Drain, but do not press them; then add a 
tea-cupful of cream and four tablespoonfuls of butter, nutmeg, salt and pep- 
per to suit the taste. Wet one teaspoonful of flour in cold water, stir in, 
let it all boil up a few minutes, and serve in a sauce-boat, or pour over boiled 
chickens, rabbits, etc. 

MUSHROOMS STEWED IN GRAVY. 

First prepare the brown gravy as follows: 

Put two ounces of butter into a sauce-pan, and set over the fire. Cut twa 
large onions into rings very thin, and put in the butter, and fry a light brown. 
Cut three pounds of shin of beef and two small slices of lean bacon into small 
square pieces, and add to the bntter and onions; pour in a tea-cupful of 
water; let it boil ten minutes, or until of a nice brown color, stirring it often; 
add salt and pepper to taste, and three cloves. After cooking as above 
ten minutes, add tliree quarts of water; let it boil, then draw it one side and 
let it simmer gently from one and a half to two hours, then strain. When 
cold, take oflTall the fat. To thicken this gravy, put two ounces of butter into 
a sauce-pan, and set over the fire till hot; then stir in three ounces of flour, and 
stir till of a light-brown color; when cold, add it to the strained gravy, and 
boil up quickly. This thickening may be made in larger quantities, kept in a 
stone jar, and used for gravies when wanted. 

To stew the mushrooms, make a pint of this brown gravy, clean a pint of 
mushrooms, cut nearly all the stalks away, and peel the tops. Put them 
into the stew-pan Avith the gravy, and simmer gently half an hour. Add 
grated nutmeg, cayenne-pepper and salt to suit your taste, and serve very 
hot. 



MUSHROOMS. 665 

FRICASSEE OF MUSHROOMS. 
Peel the mushrooms; then put them for a minute in boiling water, then 
into cold; takeout and wipe dry. Put a lump of butter into a sauce-pan, 
and when hot lay in the mushrooms. Set over the fire, and keep tossing them 
in the sauce-pan to keep from burning, for two minutes; then stir in some 
flour, just enough to thicken the quantity you are preparing; add pepper, 
salt, a little parsley and thyme. Now add some stock (again be governed as 
to the quantity by the amount of mushrooms to be cooked), and simmer 
together half an hour. Take out the mushrooms, strain the liquor to make 
the sauce, then beat into the liquor a few yolks of eggs according to the quan- 
tity wanted ; add a spoonful of lemon-juice. Stir tlie eggs and juice into the 
sauce, and serve with the mushrooms ; or, have some fried sippets of bread, 
and place the mushrooms on them, and then pour the sauce on top. 

CONSTADES OF MUSHROOMS. 

Chop an onion small, fry it in butter till a pale brown, stirring it carefully 
to prevent burning. Wlien brown, add a quarter of a pound of finely chop- 
ped mushrooms, and simmer with the onion till the mushrooms are two- 
thirds cooked. Soak two anchovies, pound them in a mortar with ateaspoon- 
ful of French mustard, and three tablespoonfuls of brown sauce. When all 
well beaten together, add to the mushrooms; boil all together three minutes, 
and fill the constade cases, or shells. 

MUSHROOMS "A LA B0RDELAI8E." 
Put some butter — or oil, if preferred — on a flat baking-dish, sprinkle 
bread-crumbs and finely chopped parsley, lay over .some mushrooms, then more 
butter or oil, pepper, salt, and finely-chopped parsley, bread-crumbs, and 
more mushrooms. Bake about half an hour, according to the thickening of 
the mushrooms. 

STUFFED MUSHROOMS. 

Chop up the stalks of the mushrooms with one-fourth their quantity of 
parsley and some eschalots ; squeeze them in a cloth, then warm five min- 
utes in butter and a little brown thickening. When done, fill the mushrooms 
which have been washed quickly, drained, dried and trimmed ; put them on 
a buttered baking-dish, sprinkle with sifted bread-crumbs, and bake ten min- 
utes; then serve. 



566 MISCELLANEOUS. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 

HINTS TO THE INEXPERIENCED. 

Calicoes, muslins, French lawns and cambrics are a source of perplexity 
and anxiety to many housekeepers. We have often heard the remark that 
such dresses, especially calicoes — which are much the clieapest — are only fit 
to wear while they can be kept decently clean without washing. That is too 
true, if they are washed as most are, without special oversiglit and direction 
from the mistress. Very few servants, if not emphatically cautioned, under- 
stand the proper mode of doing up such articles. 

If left soaking in suds, or washed in the suds which was used to wash tlie 
white clothes; if starched stiff and with common starch, or in flour starch; 
if hung in the sun to dry, and ironed on the right side with a very hot iron, 
it is not strange that they are not thought suitable for use after once having 
been washed and ironed. But if carefully treated in the laundry, dresses of 
either of these materials should continue to look fresh and new till thor- 
oughly worn out. 

Black and white cotton or linen dresses are thought very difficult to cleanse 
and do up, because the color " runs " and settles in the white, and the same 
complaint is made of stone, slate, brown or maroon colors. But by a few 
precautions and a little extra care in the first washing, there need be no 
further trouble with any of these colors. 

Before washing black and white cotton or linen dresses, or any of these 
dark colors, first dip them in salt and water, and hang in a shady place to 
dry. Two cofiee-cups of salt to eight or ten quarts of cold water is the 
proper proportion. When dry, put them into a light suds, not very hot, and 
wash as usual. A little salt in the rinsing-water is desirable. After wash- 
ing once in this way, they can ever after be washed without these precautions. 
No colored goods should be allowed to soak at all, either in suds or rinsing- 
water. Let the work be done as speedily, with as little delay when fii-st 
begun, as is consistent with being well done. 

An easier u'ay — and we have tried it successfully in washing the fine colored 
lisle and cotton hosiery of dark and medium coloi-s now so much used — is to 
put black pepper into the suds when hot, let it stand till the water is cool 
enough to wash colored goods, and then put them in and wash as usual; 
rinse in one water, and hang in a shady place to dry. A great spoonful 
and a half of pepper to a pailful of water. The pepper does not aflect the 
snds at all, but sets the color, and we are told that it is equally effective 
with all cotton or linen fabrics, light or dark. We have tried it only on 
hosiery, and not on any very light colors. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 567 

Another way is to mix two cupfuls of wlicat-hran in cold water till a 
ismootli paste; then stir it into one quart of soft, boiling water. Ixt it boil 
half an hour, then strain, and add to it four or five more cjuarts of soft^ 
warm water, or enough to wash a dress in. Use no soap, for the bran an- 
swers all the cleansing purposes of soap. The water should not be much 
more than milk warm, and perfectly clean. Add a tablespoonful of salt, if 
there is black in the dresses or any color that may "run." Rinse thoroughly 
in only one water. No starch is needed; but if one thinks it desirable, use a 
little white glue water, not hot. 

Many j)rofer muslins or calicoes very stifl'. We think it a mistake, aside 
from the unpleasantness of wearing skirts or dresses so stifl' as to rattle, that 
to have such articles look like new they should have no more stiHening or 
polish than new goods have. Except the coarsest and cheapest cotton goods, 
we lind none in the stores that are so very stifl' or glossy. To avoid the last, 
iron on the wrong side, and not with a very hot iron, and there will be none 
of the shiny look which a hot iron used on the right side will always 
leave. 

FINE STARCH. 

Pour a quart of boiling water on three tablespoonfuls of the best fine 
starch that has been made into a smooth, thin paste by wetting in cold 
water. Stir rapidly while pouring on the hot water. Put it over the fire, 
and continue to stir till it begins to boil. Let it boil slowly fifteen minutes, 
stii'ring it often enough to keep from scorching. A little salt, butter, pure 
lard or sperm candle is stirred in by some; but one teaspoonful of kerosene 
oil to every quart of starch is better still, as it entirely prevents the iron 
sticking, and makes the articles clear and glossy. But care must be taken 
not to have more than that proportion of oil used, else it will injure the 
clothes. The mistress should look after this, because starched things iron so 
much more easily, and polish so nuich better, thilt laundresses who have 
u.sed kerosene are inclined to feel that they can not have too nnich of a good 
thing. 

Either kerosene, salt or sperm should be used in flour starch. We think 
butter yellows white goods. 

TO RENEW VELVET. 

If wet, it becomes hard, knotty and shiny, and to all appearances spoiled, 
but can be fully restored, looking as well as when first taken from the 
store, if it is made quite damp, wet thoroughly — only not enough to drip — 
on the wrong side, and then with the assistance of another held over a very 
hot iron, but not allowed to touch the iron at all. One should hold the hot iron 
face uppermost, while another holds the dampened velvet close to the iron. 
In a few minutes the "pile" rises, and the velvet becomes like new. The 



568 MISCELLANEOUS. 

heat of the iron sends the water through the tissues of the velvet, forcing the 
steam out at the upper side, thus separating the small flossy fibers that, hav- 
ing been dampened or wet on the surface, flatten down and adhere together 
in hard bunches. If one should attempt to iron the velvet where it has been 
wet, it would only flatten these fibers still more and make the surface 
harder; for this reason it is important that the velvet should not touch the 
hot iron. 

After the velvet assumes its proper appearance it is well to spread it over 
a skirt board or table, and brush gently with a soft brush. Be sure that it 
is thoroughly free from dampness before putting it away in its proper place. 

When velvet is crushed by packing or use, hold the parts defaced over a 
basin of hot water — the lining, or wrong side, next the water — and the "pile " 
will soon rise up and look like new. 

WASHING-SODA 

Weakens the fabric of goods washed in it, and a German chemist advises 
the use of hyposulphite of soda instead of the common washing-soda. He 
assures us that it does not injure the strength of any goods, but has some 
peculiar bleaching properties by which linen and calicoes are greatly im- 
proved in appearance. 

LAMP-WICKS. 
Should be changed frequently, or, if not too short, washed in strong, hot 
soapsuds, with some ammonia in the rinsing-water. We think the trouble 
with poor light from kerosene lamps probably arises from the wicks being 
full of the sediment or refuse matter which comes from the oil, and that 
impedes the free passage of the kerosene through the wicks. 

FADED WEITING. 
If the paper is moistened with water, and then brushed over with a solu- 
tion of sulph-hydric ammonia, it will be restored. This article can be 
obtained of any druggist. 

TO POLISH SHIKT-BOSOMS. 

It is important, as far as possible, that the implements for work should be 
made and kept in the best manner. It is diflScult— we think impossible — to 
secure the full polish without a properly prepared board, and the best and 
smoothest irons; a regular polishing iron is very desirable. 

First, the bosom-board should be of well-seasoned pine, free from gum, one 
and a half inches thick, one foot nine inches long and eighteen inches wide. 
It should be rounded on one end, straight, cut smooth, having no edge, the 
square end made smooth. Fold flannel or an old piece of soft blanket, two 



MISCELLANEOUS. 569 

or three double, until it is quite soft and thick; tack each layer to the edge, 
and draw it tightly over the board, taking care there are no wrinkles; the 
last two layers should be Canton flannel, the upper one as fine as you can 
get. Spread tlie other side with thick flour-paste, and spread over a piece 
of Canton flannel, pressing it down smooth into the paste, drawing it per- 
fectly straight. Let it dry perfectly; then lay over that more paste, and 
stretch over another piece of Canton flannel. Rub it down over the paste 
until free from all wrinkles. Let that become very dry; and so on till you 
have four thicknesses of Canton flannel well pasted on ; then tack the edges 
down neatly on the sides of the board. It is a little trouble to make; but 
well done, and kept carefully, it is for life. Have cotton cases to draw over 
the board, changing every week. The soft side is to iron embroidery, 
Marseilles vests and figured articles; the hard side to polish shirts and 
collars on. 

Next, the starch. The best vessel to make starch in is a bell-metal skillet, 
or a Wedgewood ware or fire-proof earthen pipkin, as in these it is less liable 
to sfcorch or be discolored. Mix the starch with cold water until it is of the 
consistency of common paste, carefully rubbing all lumps till the whole is 
perfectly smooth; then pour upon ii boiling water in proportion of a pint to 
an ounce of starch ; add to the boiling water what bluing is necessary before 
pouring the water over the starch ; stir the starch smooth while pouring on 
the boiling water, then set the skillet over the fire, stirring constantly until 
it boils up ; always stir the starch with a wooden spoon. After adding the 
hot water, stir in a tablespoonful of gum-arabic water and. one quarter of a 
teaspoonful of salt. The gum-arabic helps give a polish ; the salt prevents 
the stai'ch from sticking to the iron. Let the starch boil only a few minutes, 
then skim and strain while hot ; this can only be done by dipping the 
strainer in cold water while the starch is in the bag, squeezing it out imme- 
diately, before the bag gets too hot to handle. Wet the bosom and collars 
in hot water, wring very dry, and then starch them. (The clothes should be 
dried before starching.) Rub them well that the starch may penetrate, then 
wring in a dry towel to remove all starch that may remain in lumps on the 
outside; spread out evenly, rub down with a dry cloth, and roll tightly; let 
them lie two or three hours — not longer in warm weather, lest the starch 
gets sour; in winter they can lie longer, even all night if put where they 
don't freeze, but it is never safe in summer. 

Now the ironing. First, iron the neck binding, after that the back of the 
phirt, folded in the middle, then the sleeves and remainder of the body; 
next, cufls and collar, if on the shirt; and, lastly, the bosom. The bosom, collar 
and cuffs should first be ironed on the soft or padded side of the bosom- 
board ; then, to polish, turn the hard side up, place the bosom on it, pass a 
damp cloth lightly over it, and iron hard and quickly with a polishing iron, 
•which differs from others in being rounded instead of flat, and without an 



570 MISCELLANEOUS. 

edge, and, being perfectly smooth, it leaves no mark of the iron, as other flat- 
irons do. It costs no more than others, or very little more, and is indispensa- 
ble in polishing linen in the best style, and exceedingly useful in ironing 
caps, vests and many small articles. 

We do not know as this is the mode in which linen is polished in the large 
laundries; but it is, if the directions are properly followed, very successful. 

REMOVING SPOTS FROM ZESfC. 

"A Young Housekeeper" inquires: "Can you tell me how to remove spots 
and stains from zinc? A piece under my parlor-stove has several large spots 
on it. They were there when it came, and annoy me much, spoiling the 
appearance of the Vhole room." 

The person who sold you the zinc with such defects upon it should be re- 
quested to replace it with a perfect piece. He had no right to send you 
any thing so unseemly ; for it can not but annoy you to have such blemishes 
before your eyes continually. 

If spots on zinc or any metal have been of long standing, particularly 
if they are from rust, we doubt if they can ever be totally eradicated; but 
the best article we have ever tried for rejuvenating all kinds of metals, is the 
sapolio soap. It can be found in city or country, at almost all hardware- 
stores, groceries and druggists, with full directions wrapped round the cake 
of soap. It will, we think, take off all spots, stains or rust that can be re- 
moved ; but we doubt if that, or any thing, can so far conquer rust as to 
make the spot where it has eaten look as "good as new." We find it ex- 
cellent to keep all articles of tin, brass, copper or steel in good condition ; all 
these metals and bath-tubs, usually made of zinc, can be kept bright by it, 
far more readily than with bath-brick, rotten-stone or oil. We have not, 
as yet, had occasion to try it on rusty zinc, but are told it is more effective 
than most preparations. 

Clean lard, free from salt, rubbed on zinc with a cloth, and afterward 
removed by a thorough rubbing with a clean dry cloth, will keep zinc in a 
good condition after spots and dirt are cleaned off. We have seen it stated 
that rust can be removed from steel by rubbing it faithfully with sweet oil, 
and leaving it on the steel for forty-eight hours. Then take unslacked lime,, 
finely pulverized, and rub with that till the rust disappears. We have 
never tried it, but it comes from good authority; and we see no reason why 
it should not be as effective for zinc. 

These are the best hints we can give for removing rust after it has once 
begun its work ; but " prevention is better than cure," and this mischief may 
be prevented by mixing with a little lard-oil and varnish, four-fifths as much 
well rectified spirits of turpentine. Mix well together and apply with a 
sponge. Articles rubbed with this retain their polish, and will not contract 



MISCELLANEOUS, 571 

rust. We know that this is true with regard to steel, brass, copper, etc., and 
doubt not would be equally useful with zinc. 

TO TAKE INK FEOM LINEN. 

Wash the spot in salt and water, as soon after the ink is on as you can, 
taking care that it is not put into suds before it has been well washed in the 
salt and water, and then sponged with leiuon-juioe, as the soap will instantly 
"set" the color,»making it almost impossible ever to remove the ink. 

When ink is spilled on the carpet or on woolen goods, if attended to in- 
stantly after the accident, it can be taken out entirely by sweet milk. First 
wipe off carefully all that can be soaked up by a handful of cotton-batting. 
Then have a dish of sweet milk ready, and, dipping the clean cotton-batting 
in it, wash the spot, changing the batting for a clean piece as soon as it gets 
black with the ink. Continue this till the ink no longer shows; then take 
a pail of hot suds and a clean cloth, and wash as far as the milk has wet; 
rinse with clear, warm water, and rub dry with a clean cloth. We have 
never known this to fail. 

Ink-spots, paint or grease can be removed from clothing, by mixing four 
tablespoonfuls of sj^irits of hartshorn, the same quantity of alcohol, and one 
tablespoonful of table-salt. Mix it well, and apply with a sponge or brush. 
Wash ofTwith clear alcohol. 

To remove ink-stains from colored articles, drop hot tallow on the spot; 
then soak and rub it witii boiling milk. This will be found effectual. Of 
course the tallow and milk must be afterward washed off, either with soap- 
suds or alcohol, else a grease-spot will be left. 

CARE OF OIL-CLOTHS. 

Oil-cloth should never be scrubbed with a brush, and on no account use 
soap-suds or hot water. It has a bad etTect on the paint, and the cloth will 
not last as long. After sweeping, wash with soft Hannel and lukewarm or 
cold water. Let the oil-cloth get thoroughly dry; then prepare a small bit 
of beeswax, softened with a little turpentine, and rub the cloth well with 
this preparation, using for that purpose a soft furniture-polishing brush. 
This need not be done every week, but whenever the oil-cloth grows dingy. 
Cared for in this way, it will last twice as long as with the ordinary 
scrubbing, and always look fresh and new. 

A less troublesome way, but not quite so effective, is to wash the oil-cloth, 
after sweeping and washing with flannel and warm water, with sweet skim- 
milk, and then rub very dry with a clean, dry cloth. Wipe straight one 
way of the cloth, not round and round, as that will give a cloudy, unpleasant 
look to the cloth. 



572 MISCELLANEOUS. 



DIFFERENCE BETWEEN COOKING-SODA AND WASHING-SODA. 

We coj)y from the " Agriculturist " a much-needed and thorough explana- 
tion: " The bicarbonate of soda of the shops is what is known as baking- or 
cooking-soda. We use this soda with sour milk, molasses or wherever an 
acid is present (as there usually is in molasses, even though it is sweet), for a 
double purpose: in the first place, to neutralize the acid; and, secondly, that 
the carbonic acid or gas, set free by this action of the acid on the soda, 
may permeate the mixture in minute bubbles; and thele, when expanded 
by the heat of cooking, help to make the article 'flight.' We use wash- 
ing-soda for cleansing purposes, and the bicarbonate of soda for cooking; 
because, supposing both to be pure, cooking-soda contains twice as much 
carbonic acid (the gas just mentioned) as washing-soda does. For the pur- 
pose of simply neutralizing the acid, washing-soda is as good as the other, 
which is used merely because it gives ofi" this gas, and gives lightness to the 
article in which it is used. But if in dissolving cooking-soda hot water is 
used, or if heated in any way, this extra quantity of gas is driven off', and 
the soda is reduced at once to common or washing-soda. Even if the water 
is not boiling, but simply hot, much of the gas is lost, and we might as well 
use the common washing-soda at the start." In this explanation you will 
see why we have constantly specified that soda should never be dissolved in 
hot water. Tepid water may be used, but we much prefer to dissolve the 
soda in cold milk or water. If put into the cold liquid and covered over in 
good season, it will dissolve as perfectly as in hot water; or it can be rolled 
very fine and put to part of the Hour and sifted, and thus be thoroughly in- 
corporated with the flour, so as to leave no yellow spot in the bread, cake, 
etc., when cooked, if it has been well beaten or molded. But when used in 
molasses, part of it should be dissolved in as little water as possible and 
beaten into the molasses till it foams, and then instantly poured to the 
other ingredients. 

WASHING COLORED TABLE-CLOTHS. 

Soak in clear, cold water half an hour, wring out, and wash quickly 
through clear, warm suds. Wring as dry as possible, and put into cold 
water, into which put a large handful of salt. Let them soak fifteen min- 
utes, then wring dry, and starch with very thin starch. Hang up instantly, 
never having them wrung out a minute before putting on the line. When 
dry, roll in a damp cloth for an hour, and tlien iron. But an excellent house- 
keeper, and one who is careful about many things, says: Do not iron a red 
table-cloth at all; wa^h it carefully in warm suds, not hot, rinse well, and, 
when ready to hang on the line, take great pains to pull it so that it will keep 
the proper shape. It will retain its color much longer than if ironed. One 



MISCELLANEOUS. 573 

use to make of a colored table-cloth which is too much faded to look well on 
the table, is to turn it into a crumb-cloth. Starch it as stiff as possible 
iron it nicely, keeping the edges straight. Instead of tacking it to the 
carpet, pin it in place; then it will be little trouble to take it up whenit 
needs washing. It will keep clean a long time. It is a good thing to know 
this, even if you have a handsome crumb-cloth, as this can be put down 
when that has to be taken up aud cleaned. 

WASHING BUFF AND DRAB TABLE-CLOTHS. 

It is impossible to be assured that stains can be removed without injuring 
the color of buff and drab table-cloths. Washing is very likely to fade these 
delicate colors, and it is necessary to dip them in salt and water to "set" the 
colors. This, however, would probably "set" the stains also. The safest 
thing to do is to hold the cloth over a bowl and pour boiling water over it. 
Any stains which are not then removed may be given up as permanent de- 
facements. It is this difficulty which makes the use of any but white table- 
linen a costly and temporary luxury — and a doubtful one at that. 

TO WASH DAMASK TABLE-LINEN (PINK AND WHITE). 

Put a teaspoonful of sugar of lead into two-thirds of a pail of water, and 
when dissolved soak the table-linen in it fifteen or twenty minutes, and we 
think you will find it will not fade. We have never washed table-linen of 
sucli delicate colors, but find the most delicate pinks and blues hold fast thtir 
integrity if sugar of lead is used. Be careful when wringing the articles 
from this water that there is no cut or sore on the hands, as the sugar of lead 
is poisonous. 

Every thing that is liable to fade must be washed quickly, and not 
allowed to soak in suds or rinsing-water, and hung in a shady place to dry. 
Never wash flannel, silk, or colored things on a wet or cloudy day, but lay 
them aside for a fair day; and when washing such articles do not let them 
stand and soak, but wash, rinse, starch — if needed — and hang out each thing 
as fast as possible, and then take the next. 

TO CURE CANARIES OF ASTHMA. 

Soak a piece of sponge-cake in a teaspoonful of whisky and two teaspoonfuls 
of water. Give the bird some of this twice a week. Keep it carefully from 
any cold draughts. Give the bird a bath of tepid water twice a week. Gra';s- 
seed, the inside piece of lettuce, or chickweed when in season, is beneficial. 
Keep cuttlefish bone always in the cage. Put a nail or bit of rusty iron in 
the drinking cup, changing the water every morning. Avoid giving hemp 
or rape seed — as they are too heating — and sprinkle good light sand, not 
white sand, on the bottom of the cage every day. 



574 MISCELLANEOUS. 

TO CLEAN TILED FLOORS. 

Wash once with a solution of muriatic acid and warm water — a pint of 
acid to a half bucketful of water; then wash off with clean water and soft- 
soap. Wash afterward twice or thrice a week with water and soft-soap. 

POLISHING-IRONS. 

The high polish which is desirable for all articles, like shirt-bosoms, cuffs 
and collars, that require to be made much stiffer than most starched things, 
is supposed by many laundresses — and by some of their employers — to be a 
mystery demanding much experience and great skill to master. For that rea- 
son, instead of attempting to solve the riddle, they are content persistently to 
assert, "I can't;" and having thus settled in their own minds that it is 
something far beyond any possible attainment of theirs, they endeavor to be 
content to see work of this kind imperfectly executed. We have heard ladies 
who have the credit of being good housekeepers acknowledge that it would 
be quite impossible for them, in any emergency, to iron any article that 
needed polish, or to teach a child or servant how to do it correctly. If, there- 
fore, they engage a laundress whose ironing proves unsatisfactory, they are 
compelled to part with a servant who, by a little explanation and training, 
might have been made invaluable. 

Tt is a mistaken idea that any more skill is needed than that which comes 
with good judgment and such experience as repeated and careful trials and 
an earnest desire to succeed will bring. One can learn how to iron and give the 
requisite polish with much less time and instruction than is required to learn 
a new stitch or to perfect a new design in any of the fancy-work to which so 
much time is devoted. 

This secret lies chiefly in the mode of ironing rather than in the prepara- 
tion of the starch. The best and most elaborately made starch will never 
give the polish sought for. Many believe it impossible to give the luster 
unless gum-arabic, sperm, white wax or kerosene is put in the starch. These 
are good, making the labor easier, but the polish can only be perfectly given 
by the use of a polishing-iron. These irons can be obtained at almost any 
hardware or house-furnishing store. They are rounded on the points, back 
and sides, and are very highly polished. After the article has been smoothly 
ironed, hard rubbing with these irons will produce as high a luster as one 
ever finds on a new shirt. A few trials will soon teach one the proper use 
of these polishing-irons, and giv^e the skill to use the rounded ends and 
sides like an expert. 

CLOSING CRACKS IN CAST-IRON STOVES. 
If finely pulverized clay and a little salt are mixed with an equal quantity 
of wood-ashes, sifted through a fine sieve, and made into a paste with water, 



MISCELLANEOUS. 575 

and then filled into the cracks of a stove when the stove is cold, it will effect- 
ually stop the cracks. It makes a cement that will not pull off or break, 
and soon assumes, after being heated, a great degree of hardness. This can 
also be used with good results in setting the plates of a stove or fitting the pipe, 
making all the joints perfectly tight. This is a useful hint for country house- 
keepers, wlio can not always get repairs done on short notice. 

PRESERVING EGGS. 

A French pharmacist offers the following discovery for preserving eggs ; 
namely, to use a solution of silicate of soda, which, being of a very glutinous 
or adhesive character, is kept in a liquid state by adding a little tepid 
water. Simply dip the fresh eggs in this, and then dry them. When 
thoroughly dried and completely covered with the silicate solution, which 
any druggist can furnish, the eggs can then be put away, and will keep, it is 
stated, for more than a year without injury. 

SMALL HOLES ^ 

In white walls can be easily closed without the assistance of the mason, 
by taking equal parts of plaster of Paris and the white sand used in the fam- 
ily to scour with. Mix with water to a paste and apply immediately. Smooth 
off with a flat knife or piece of wood. This mixture hardens very quickly, 
and, therefore, only a small quantity should be prepared at a time. 

SCOURING-BALLS. 

Scou ring-balls are now almost superseded by other cleansing compounds. 
Some balls are made simply of " fuller's earth," but the best are made of 
fuller's earth, soap and ox-gall, made into balls and dried. The ox-gall, 
we think, is quite as effective when used alone. It is an excellent article for 
removing grease-spots from silks, etc., as it imites with the grease without 
injuring the fabric, and generally not disturbing the color. It can be used 
fresh from the butcher's, or the "prepared gall" can be bought at the 
druggist's. 

TO RESTORE COLOR. 

If the color is taken out by acids, wet the spots with liquid ammonia to 
kill the acid, and then wet with chloroform to restore the color. If the color 
is destroyed by alkalies, wet with acid to destroy the alkali, and then with 
the chloroform to restore the color. 

TO REMOVE FINGER-MARKS FROJI A PIANO. 
Have two chamois-skins ; moisten one with cold water ; first wipe th% spots 
with this, and immediately rub well with the dry skin. Beware of using any 
patent polish. 



576 MISCELLANEOVS. 

TO CLEAN SILVER. 

Wash first in a strong soap-suds, boiling hot, to remove all grease or im- 
purities. Wipe perfectly dry, then mix as much powdered ammonia as will 
be needed, to a thick paste, with cold water or spirits of wine. Put this paste 
over the silver with a soft bit of flannel, and leave it till the paste is perfectly 
dry. If there is much silver to clean at the same time, the paste on the first 
piece will be well dried by the time all have been covered with the paste. 
Then, beginning with the first article, brush the dry paste off thoroughly with 
a soft brush made especially for cleaning silver. Be particular to brush all the 
raised or chased work perfectly free from the paste; then polish each article, 
after well freed from paste, with a soft, dry chamois-skin, and your silver will 
look like new; and, if well washed in hot soap-suds, rinsed in hot water, and 
wiped very dry every time it is used, the silver should not require cleaning 
in this way more than twice or three times a year. But the washing and dry- 
ing must be very thorough. 

TO BUY SPICES GROUKD, OR GRIND AT HOME. 

It is certainly more convenient to buy spices all ground and put up neatly 
in boxes, and under some circumstances, with honest dealers, maybe equally 
economical. But one always risks buying impure articles — those which 
have been adulterated. It is asking a little too much to expect housekeepers 
to believe, as is often advertised, that one can buy spices all ground and neatly 
put up for less than the cost of the whole spice. A person of good common 
sense will at once suspect that some foreign substance has found its way into 
the mill while tlie spice is being ground. No reflection on any one's honesty, 
but the most faultless are liable to mistakes, and we must all be charitable 
in our judgments, provided these accidents do not occur too frequently. 

TO DETECT ADULTERATIONS IN TEAS. 

The leaves of other shrubs are sometimes mixed with the tea, but can 
easily be discovered by steeping a little, and then dropping a grain and a 
half of copperas or blue vitriol into the tea. If real green tea, when placed 
in a good light, it will appear a fine light blue. If it is the true bohea, it will 
change to a dark blue, almost black; but if adulterated, green,,yellow and 
blue colors will be easily seen in the infusion. Tea is sometimes dyed, when 
fresh gathered, with Japan earth, which gives the whole the color of bohea 
tea; but this is also easily detected when once suspected, because, when dyed, 
a less quantity of the tea will give a deeper color than it would have if the 
tea were pure, and the color will be a reddish brown instead of the dark 
color of the genuine article, and the leaves, after being steeped, will be 
greener than true bohea. The tea also has a harsh, rough taste, instead of a 



MISCELLANEOUS. 577 

clear, balsamic taste. Milk, also, when poured in, looks reddish, rather than 
blackish brown. Sulphate of iron, when added to the liquor, will turn it 
light blue instead of nearly a blue black. Tea is sold for pure green tea 
when it is simply an inferior article of bohea dyed with green vitriol. But 
it can be at once detected by putting a bit of gall-nut into the infusion, when 
it will turn a deep black; but if genuine, and no sulphate of iron mixed in 
it, it would not thus change, for galls will not change the color of pure tea. 
There are many other tests, but these are sufficient. Many of these tests we 
heard of in California, where they are unusually particular to hiive the very 
best teas that can be procured— at least, we found them such. We are also 
indebted to an excellent book recently published, entitled, " Every-day Facts 
for Every-day Life," which will be a most valuable help to any housekeeper. 

CARE OF MARBLE STATUES. 

Fine marble should not be handled. Sculptors say that the oil in the hand 
discolors the marble. However true that may be, fine statues are often yel- 
lowed by being washed improperly. Only pure cold water should be used, 
and a painter's brush employed to wash them. If carefully dusted with a 
feather duster every day, marble statuary should not need washing more 
than twice a year. They need gauze covers in summer. If any insect gets, 
to them, alcohol will be needed to remove the stain, but never use soap or- 
warm water. The light, so say good artists, should fall on statuary from' 
such a height as to leave but a hair's breadth between the shade of the nose 
and the upper outline of the upper lip. 

A SIMPLE BUTTER-COOLER. 
When ice can not be easily obtained, put a trivet, or some open, flat thing 
with legs, into a saucer or soup-plate, and set the plate of butter on the 
trivet. Fill the saucer M'ith water, turn a clean, common flower-pot upside 
down over the butter, so that the edges will sit within the saucer and under 
the water. Put a cork tightly into the hole in the bottom of the flower-pot, 
then drench the flower-pot with cold water, and set in a cool place over 
night, or for some hours before needed on the table, and it will be as.hard as 
if kept on ice. 

POISONS 

Of almost any kind or degree of power taken into the stomach, may be nen- 
tralized by swallowing instantly nearly two gills of sweet-oil — a strong,, 
healthy person may take twice that quantity. It is alleged that the oil will 
destroy the effects of any form of animal, vegetable or mineral poison, 

TO REMOVE MILDEW FROM WHITE MUSLIN. 

To be successful and do no injury to the cloth, the mildew should be ex- 
tracted as soon as possible after it is discovered. It is almost impossible to 
.37 



578 MISCELLANEOUS. . 

remove it, if long unattended to, without serious injury to the garment. Mix 
soft-soap and finely powdered starch with half the quantity of salt and the 
juice of a lemon. It should be as thick as paste. Wet both sides of the 
cloth with this preparation, and spread the cloth on the grass. Let it lie 
there day and night till the mildew disappears, renewing the paste two or 
three times a day; or, 

Put salt into tomato-juice, and wet the stain in that. Spread the cloth on 
the grass, renewing the salt and tomato-juice as before till the mildew dis- 
ijppears; then rijise in clear water, and boil and bleach with the other 
clothes; or, 

Moisten a piece of soap, and rub over the spot; then spread whiting over 
the soap, lay on the grass in a hot sun, and as it becomes dry wet the spot, 
and from time to time renew the soap and whiting. 

ANOTHER WAY TO REMOVE MILDEW FROM LINEN. 

Chloride of lime is the surest and most expeditious ; but great care must 
be used not to keep an article in it long, as it will injure the texture. 

Put one and a half tablespoonfuls of chloride of lime into a pail two-thirds 
full of water (a wooden pail or earthen bowl, as it will rust tin or iron, 
and do more harm than good), and let the mildewed spot soak in this twenty 
minutes. Then wash and boil. If the spots do not disappear, rinse from 
the first water, and, after rinsing, dip into the chloride of lime and water 
again, and hang up without wringing, in the full blaze of the sun for five or 
ten minutes. Then wash, boil, rinse and hang out. If the spots have been 
of long standing, this treatment must be renewed several times; but if of 
recent date, there will be no trouble in taking them out. 

Lemon-juice, chalk and soap will usually remove mildew, if recent, and is 
not so liable to weaken the cloth as chloride of lime. Wet the spots in clear 
watei ; then make a paste of soft-soap, chalk and lemon-juice, and put on the 
spots, and spread in the sun. Repeat if the spots do not disappear on the 
first trial; then wash, boil, rinse and dry. 

INK AND IRON-MOLD 

Can be removed from linen by any acid that will dissolve the red oxide of 
iron which is found in ink and iron ; but care must be taken that the acid is 
not too strong, or the fabric of the goods will be destroyed. Oxalic acid is 
very good to take out such spots, and salts of lemon also ; but both must be 
carefully used, or tlie cloth will be weakened; and it should be remembered 
•that both are deadly poisons. 

To use salts of lemon, crush a little of the salts fine, and lay on the ink- 
spot or iron-mold. Then drop enough hot water into the salts to moistea it. 
Lay it on a water-plate, having boiling water in the reservoir; or, if no water- 



' MISCELLANEOUS. 579 

plate, put it over a tin-plate, set over boiling water, but only for a few min- 
utes. Then remove it, and rinse quickly. If sorae stain still lingers, apply 
again in the same manner, or several times may be needed if the spots have 
been of long standing. 

But we have a great repugnance to the use of these acids, both on account 
of the danger of rotting the cloth, and because they are poisonous. A 
moment's carelessness, especially where there are young children, may be 
fatal. We prefer to mix equal parts of salt, pulverized starch and soft-soap, 
and wet them into a paste with clear lemon-juice. Lay fhe garment in the 
sun on the grass, or put it in a window where the sun shines hottest; keep it 
there several hours, or all day if need be, renewing the application every 
hour or two if once does not prove sufficient. It will be enougli if the spots 
are fresh. When all have disappeared, rinse oflf in cold water; then wash and 
boil as usual. Do not put the article into the suds until all the stains have 
been removed ; or, 

Dip the spot in sour buttermilk, and dry in the hot sun, re-dipping it 
several times until the spots are no longer visible; then wash and boil as 
usual. lu either method the application should be put on both sides. 

EXTRACTING STAINS. 
Stains from vegetables or fruit can usually be extracted, if taken in season, 
by drawing the cloth tightly over a large bowl, and pouring boiling water 
over the spot; but if left to dry they are more difBcult to erase. A little 
soda rubbed on the spot, and just moistened witli water, will remove the 
stain, but endangers the strength of the cloth. A mixture of ammonia and 
spirits of wine is safer. The spot should soak in it several hours. 

TO WASH BROWN LINEN. 

Take enough timothy hay to fill a ten-quart kettle two-thirds full when 
pressed down, cover it thoroughly with soft, hot water, and boil till the 
water is a dark, greenish color. While the hay is boiling, make flour-starch 
in the usual way, and when the ^hay-water is of the right color strain it into 
the starch, and put the linen into it, not hot, but tepid, letting it soak ten or 
fifteen minutes, no longer ; then wash without any soap. The starch and 
hay-tea will clean the linen, and no rinsing will be needed. Linen washed 
in this way will look like new as long as it lasts. 

COLORED ARTICLES. 
Bbie, stone, slate and bvmon can be washed and retain their color perfectly 
by putting sugar of lead into the water in which they are to be washed. Dies- 
solve one ounce of sugar of lead in a pailful of hot water. When thor- 
onghly dissolved, and the water cooled so as to be about milk-warm, put the 



580 MISCELLANEOUS. 

articles to soak in the water an hour or two ; then wring out, and hang up 
to dry before washing. When dry, wash as directed in bran-water. The 
sugar of lead fixes the color permanently, so it will not need to be repeated.. 
Ee cautious that there is no scratch, cut or sore on the hands, and that 
none of this water gets into the mouth, as sugar of lead is poisonous. 

REMOVING STAINS. 

F^^it or tmne stains can be removed from woolen or cotton goods by spong- 
ing them gently— do not rub the goods — in ammonia and alcohol ; a tea- 
spoonful of ammonia to a wine-glass of alcohol; then sponge off in clear 
alcohol. Then, if needed, the material can be washed. Stains in almost any 
colored silk can be removed in the same way. 

A Southern method of removing stains from black doth is said to be very ef- 
fectual. Boil a quantity of fig-leaves in water until the water is reduced to 
one-half its original quantity. Keep the liquid bottled, ready for use at all 
times. When needed, apply with a sponge, rubbing the spot gently with the 
liquid, and rinse off, after the spot disappears, with warm water. 

WASHING FANCY COLORS. 

Buff or favm colored muslins or calicoes are easily spotted, and are then 
hardly fit to wear ; but, if figured, by dipping the dress into strong soda and 
water the buff color Avill be entirely taken out, and the figures in it remain 
unchanged on a white ground. Pink calicoes and muslins are easily faded 
if not washed with care, and sometimes will fade by exposure to the sun. 
We have been informed that if, after rinsing, they are dipped in vinegar and 
water, the color will become almost like new. Use only vinegar sufficient to 
make the water pleasantly acid. This we can not be responsible for, as we 
have never tried it, and think we should have more confidence in trying the 
wheat-bran water. 

COFFEE-STARCH, 

Used for all dark calicoes, percales and muslins. W^et two tablespoonfuls 
of the best starch in enough cold water to stir it into a smooth paste. When 
free from any lumps, and perfectly smooth, stir in a pint of clear coffee, boil- 
ing hot. Stir over the fire till thoroughly mixed, then let it boil slowly ten 
minutes. Stir it occasionally with a sperm or wax candle, strain, and use not 
too hot. 

We do not like this as well as bran-water and hay-tea, but it is preferred 
by many. 

FLOUR-STARCH. 

Much used by those who like their calicoes or muslin dresses very stiff 
They may keep clean longer when thus stiffened, but the rustle of a stiffly- 



MISCELLANEOUS. 581 

etarched dress is annoying, and certainly no one would mistake such a dress 
for new. 

Wet four tablespoonfuls of flour in enough cold water to mix it perfectly 
smooth and free of lumpp ; then put one quart of boiling water into a clean 
tin or porcelain kettle, and stir to this the paste of flour and water. Stir 
steadily until it boils, and, after that, often enough to prevent its burning. 
It should boil about live minutes; then strain through a towel kept for that 
purpose, or a coarse and slazy linen bag. This is sufficient for one dress. 



SOAP-STONE GRIDDLES. 

The soap-stone griddle should be rubbed, after taking up one mess of cakes, 
with brown paper before putting on the next, and before putting away should 
be well cleansed with sand-paper. No grease is needed, and, if cared for as 
above directed, will always be sweet and smooth. It is better than an iron 
griddle, because there is no smoke or smell when baking cakes. If they are 
greased, they will be spoiled. They may be a little rough at first, but using 
sand-paper will soon make them smooth. 



BEESWAX. 

In the manufacture of beeswax at home, we have always taken precaution 
to save all the comb or wax that could b? gleaned from the plates or be scraped 
from the sides of the box, to which it closely adheres. When sufficient had 
been saved to make it worth the time which would be consumed in melting 
it, we tied it in a muslin bag, put it in a skillet of boiling water, placing it 
where it would keep up to the boiling point without actually boiling, till 
the wax melted and floated on the top of the water. As fast as it rose to the 
top, with a fine skimmer, heated so hot that the wax could not instantly cool 
and adhere, it was taken off" and drained into a small cup or mold. W^ax 
thus gathered can be obtained quite clear and free from motes, but unless one 
has a large apiary and can prepare the wax in a good condition for the mar- 
ket, one can hardly secure enough to be tempted to spend much time over 
it. Only a very small piece of wax can be made from one box. 

In an apiary the combs are all preserved, as far as practicable, for the use 
of new swarms, to economize time as well as honey. Between twenty and 
thirty pounds of honey are used by these industrious workers to make one 
pound of comb. If, therefore, the comb is preserved for the new swarms, they 
will not be delayed in their work, except to make such slight repairs as most 
tenants find necessary on renting a house. The combs, however, should not 
be used more than two or three times before they are melted up for wax; as 
the cells fill up after repeated use. giving so little room for the bees to work 



682 MISCELLA NEO US. 

in, that they become dwarfed and incapable of producing their full propor- 
tion of honey. 

In those establishments where wax is manufactured in large quantities it 
is re-melted, after the process already described of melting and skimming, 
either by hot water or steam, and then while hot arranged to flow upon 
horizontal wooden cylinders, which revolve half immersed in cold water. 
By this process it runs off in thin strips or ribbons, which are bleached by 
this exposure to the moisture, light and air ; or it can be laid on canvas 
stretched in a horizontal position. 

After having been thus exposed, when it ceases to change color or grow 
whiter, it must be re-melted, and again passed over the cylinders, and submit- 
ted to exposure, as before, to light and air. This process is to be repeated till 
it becomes white, when it is re-melted for the last time, strained through silk 
sieves, and run into molds. 

There are several kinds of wax — from vegetables or trees — but none equal 
to that made by bees. The "cow-tree" wax is more like that which th& 
busy bees give us than any other. There is a root in the East Indies which 
supplies another variety of wax, and also a Chinese wax, called vegetable 
spermaceti, found on certain trees in China, covering the branches with a soft, 
white coat, and collected by dipping the branches in boiling water and skim- 
ming off the i-esiduum. It is brilliantly white, but more brittle than sperma- 
ceti, and is used in China to make candles, and also for medicine. There is 
a kind of wax called Cuban wax, also, yellowish brown, but of uncertain 
origin; the Japan wax, made from a root, yellowish white, softer than bees- 
wax, and more like glycerine ; the palm wax of Colombia is obtained by 
the Indians by scraping the exterior of the tree and boiling it, when the wax 
rises to the top, and is treated like beeswax. The ocuba wax is obtained 
from the kernels of a fruit found in Brazil. 

Then we have the myrtle wax, or candle-tree, or, as it is often called, bay- 
berry tallow, which is found in the berries of the bayberry-tree. The berries 
are covered with a light, sage-green, waxy crust. This tree is found in many 
parts of the United States. Most of the vegetable Avaxes are used for candles 
or medicinal purposes; but we do not find that any of them can fully take the 
place of the beeswax. 

There is a tin machine called a wax-extractor, which claims to give the 
best, neatest, and most economical method of preparing beeswax on a large 
scale. It is said to save more of the wax, extract it more expeditiously and 
cheaply, and put it in the market much purer than the usual way, and also 
prevent scattering it over the floor. That certainly is desirable; for if spilled 
on the carpet, floor, or any wooden substance, it is not an easy thing to re- 
move. This is an invention first used in Switzerland; but whether it is the 
best arrangement we are not capable of judging, for there are as many ways 
of preparing beeswax as there are bee-keepers or apiaries. We are not suflS- 



MISCELLANEOUS. 583 

oiently familiar witJ) any of them to speak, save " by hook." We are indebted 
to the "American Cyclopa?dia," for the clearest ideas of this work which we 
have been able to gather, but it does not speak of any "wax-extractor," save 
by the processes we have mentioned. 

REPAIRING TIN-WAKE. 
Those who live in the country often tind it difficult to have small articles of 
tin-ware repaired when necessary, and are frequently put to great inconven- 
ience through long delays. But a little experience will soon teach them to be 
quite expert in mending for themselves. With a sharp knife scrape all about 
the hole or leak until it becomes bright as new tin. The solder will then 
readily adhere. Sjirinkle on a little powdered rosin, heat the soldering-iron — 
which no family should be withofit — hold it on the rusin to melt it. Do not 
have the iron so hot that the rosin or solder will adhere to the iron. If one 
has no soldering-iron, heat any smooth piece of iron (the knob on the top of 
a shovel or poker will answer), or hold a lighted candle under the spot, after 
sprinkling the rosin on top, and the work can be accomplished. But, having 
once felt the need of a soldering-iron, or learned how easy it is to make such 
repairs, no housekeeper will be long without one. 

WASHING DISHES. 
If, before wetting greasy dishes, they are sprinkled with corn-meal, or rubbed 
ofT with a small M-hisk-broom kept for that purpose and dipped in a dish of 
corn meal, it will leave the dish-water much cleaner and nicer for washing 
other dishes. The meal with which they are rubbed is not wasted, as it is 
just as good for the pigs or chickens. 

THE EYES. 

It is very trying and injurious for most eyes to read, write or sew with the 
light coming in front of one. If the light comes in over the shoulders, it 
will greatly preserve the strength of the eyes, besides adding greatly to. 
comfort. 

TO UTILIZE OLD LINEN OR COTTON. 

Boil cloths, that are too much worn for their legitimate use, five minutes in- 
a pint of milk and one ounce of powdered ammonia. As soon as taken out,, 
wring in cold water. Be careful not to let them remain a moment in the 
water. Dry before the fire, not outdoors in the wind. Keep cloths thus pre- 
pared, to polish plate or silverware. First wash and wipe the articles quite 
dry, then rub briskly with tJlcse cloths. The combination of milk and am- 
monia in which they were boiled, will produce a beautiful deep polish like 
new silver. Dust them off with a soft chamois or a dry, soft towel, before 
using. 



584 MllSCJ^LLANEOUS. 

CUT-FLOWERS. 

We have seen it stated that choice cut-flowers can be preserved a long 
time, and look perfectly fresh, by dipping them, when first cut, in the whites 
'of eggs. Let them dry, and repeat the process several times, having fresh 
whites each time. We have never tried this, and can not vouch for its relia- 
bility; but it is worth trying. 

THE USE OF SODA. 

There has been much said by good common-sense people, as well as by 
physicians, against the use of much soda or saleratus in cooking. There is no 
doubt that it is of great injury to health when used as constantly as it is by 
many cooks. Physicians very generally agree that its frequent use debilitates 
and relaxes muscular strength, and is peculiarly injurious to the digestion, 
and greatly weakens the tone of the bowels, often ending in acute inflamma- 
mation. Dr. Alcott has no hesitation in expressing his belief that the habit- 
ual use of soda is one great cause of the great mortality, particularly among 
the young, from bowel-complaints. The coats of the stomach and bowels are 
so weakened by the use of this alkali that they have no power to resist the 
debilitating effects of the intense hot weather. 

TO WASH WHITE SILK HANDKERCHIEFS. 

We doubt if white silk can be preserved from yellowing somewhat by wash- 
ing; but they can, with a little care, be cleansed, and keep their original 
whiteness much better than most that we see in general use. Make a suds 
of white soap and warm water. Never use hot water ; that will surely turn 
them yellow. Hub the handkerchiefs gently in the suds, between the hands. 
Do not rub hard, and never on the wash-board; it draws the silk. Never 
wring silk; but after washing in the suds till clean, change the water till it 
runs from the handkerchief perfectly clear. If you have water conveniences 
by which it can be placed where the water will run over it till clear, it will 
be better. If so, while the running water is rinsing the handkerchief, put 
the second handkerchief into the suds, and wash that after the same manner. 
Wash only one at a time, as quickly as is consistent with having it well done. 
When one is well I'insed, and the second is being rinsed in the same way, hold 
the first up out of the water by two corners until the water has drained oflf in 
part. Occasionally give it a light shake, but not a snap. Then roll up each 
one separately in a cloth, to squeeze out gently the remaining dampness, and 
iron at once. Because it is not well to have two in the suds at once, and not 
best to keep either long under the rinsing-water, it is much better to wash 
out any white silk handkerchief as soon as soile4. It can be washed, rinsed 
and ironed in ten minutes. Do not use a very hot iron, and spread a fine 
linen cloth or handkerchief over the silk while the iron is passed over once, 
then remove and finish quickly. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 585 

Colored handkerchiefs, or those with colored borders, should be put into a 
pail of water in which one teaspoonful of sugar of lead has been dissolved; 
or one teaspoonful of spirits of turpentine will do if the sugar of lead is not 
convenient. If there is a sore, cut or broken skin on the hands, be careful 
and take the handkerchief^ut of the sugar of lead water with a stick, else it 
will poison the hands. 

CARE OF THE HAIR. 

We know of no preparation to restore the hair which does not risk health, 
and sometimes produce fatal results. Keep the head cool, don't keep -he hat 
or bonnet on in the house, and wash the hair very often, and you have done 
the best you can. 

TO SELECT A RIPE WATER-MELON. 

We are told from good authority, when a watermelon begins to turn red 
inside and tlie seeds are changing to black, a small black speck, scale or blis- 
ter is gradually formed on the rind outside. These specks or blisters increase 
as the melon ripens and grows larger, and when fully ripe these signs will 
be quite thick over the whole surface. A partial development shows half- 
ripened fruit; a full crop of blisters guarantees its perfect ripeness. The 
blister can only be seen by close inspection, but, by a little care, can not be 
mistaken, and one may walk away with one bearing this "escutcheon" with 
the most perfect confidence that he has secured a perfect melon. We can not 
vouch for this, but it is worthy of trial. 

TO KEEP DOMESTIC ANIMALS FREE OF FLEAS. 

Keep them well washed with carbolic soap, and scatter " Insect " or " Per- 
sian powder" over the animals and round on the carpets or mats where 
they are most likely to lie down wlien in the house. A small rubber bellows 
usually comes with all insect powder, and is an excellent thing to send the 
powder through the hair or into the meshes of the carpet. The powder is 
perfectly harmless, but fleas, bugs and mosquitoes do not fancy it. It is 
largely used in all bird-stores to keep the birds and cages free from insects, 
and is very effective. 

TO CLEAN WHITE PAINT. 

Put some of the best whiting in a plate, have some clean, warm water 
close by, dip a piece of clean, white flannel in the water, and squeeze as dry 
as you can; then dip the wet flannel in the whiting, and take up as much 
as will adhere to it. Apply to the paint to be cleaned, and very little rub- 
bing will remove dirt and grease; then wash as far as has been cleaned in 
clear water, rub dry with soft chamois, and proceed in the same \¥ay till all 
is cleaned. Paint thus cleaned looks as well as when first put on. The 



586 MISCELLANEOUS. 

most delicate colors are not injured by it, and it takes not more than half the 
time usually spent. The whiting used will not cost more than the soap a 
girl would use in the ordinary way. 

TO DRIVE AWAY FLIES. 

We were told on good authority that geraniums kept in a room would 
drive away not only flies, but )Zeas. We do not know from personal trial. A 
gentleman stated that his house was marvelously free from flies, and he had 
always kept geraniums in several rooms. Having occasion to remove the 
plants for some days, the family found the flies swarming into the house in 
large numbers. When the geraniums were brought back, the flies departeb, 

THINGS WORTH KNOWING. 

Measure 209 feet on each side, and you will have a square acre, within an 
inch. 

An acre contains 4,840 square yards. 

A square mile contains 640 acres. 

A mile is 5,280 feet or 1,760 yards in length. 
. A fathom is six feet. 

A league is three miles. 

A Sabbath-day's journey is 1,155 yards. (This is eighteen yards less than 
two-thirds of a mile.) 

A day's journey is thirty-three and one-eighth miles. 

A cubit is two feet. 

A great cubit is eleven feet. 

A hand (horse measure) is four inches. 

A palm is three inches. 

A span is ten and seven-eighths inches. 

A pace is three feet. 

TO CLEAN JAPAN WARE. 

Many of the Japan and papier-mach^ wares now quite popular are re- 
markably pretty, and with judicious care will remain so for a long time; but 
careless handling and cleaning soon deprive them of all their beauty. None 
of these articles should be washed in hot water; the heat cracks the varnish 
on the surface, whether of papier-mach^ or japanned iron. The varnish is 
put upon a blackened surface used to coat over the rougher material of 
which the article is made; and if this is injured, both this black coating and 
the varnish will begin to peel off, and the article become disfigured and worth- 
less. If any thing like syrup or preserves, of a glutinous nature, will not 
come off b^ rubbing, it may be necessary to clean them by the use of waterj 
but the water must not be hot, and soap should be used sparingly. When- 



MISCELLANEOUS. 587 

ever it is possible to remove all spots by rubbing with a soft linen or silk 
duster, never allow water to be used. 

When emptying the tea-pot, a few of the tea-leaves squeezed quite free 
from water are useful to keep the tray clean, and will be harmless if used 
only damp, not wet. If the tea-tray or waiter appears streaked, as if some- 
thing greasy had soiled it, a little flour or whiting sprinkled over the tray, 
and well rubbed with a soft cloth, will make it clean and give renewed lus- 
ter. The polish on tiiese articles is given by the use of olive-oil and the 
friction of the hand alone. So, when any scratches appear on the surface 
that have not penetrated through the varnished surface, sweet-oil on the 
hand and brisk rubbing will remove the marks. Japan tea-pots, candlesticks, 
etc., should be cared for in the same way. No water should be allowed to 
remain in the tea-pot, but it should be emptied and dried, as should be done 
with all kinds of cofTee or tea-pots as soon as one has done using them. 

CELERY A CURE FOR RHEUMATISM. 

, Those who have suffered from this terrible disease will feel somewhat 
doubtful if there can be any sure cure for it. But physicians are now 
speaking very strongly of the use of celery as beneficial ; and some of the 
English papers assure us that they have good medical authority for affirming 
that it ia a certain cure, if used properly. To be efficacious it must be 
cooked, not eaten raw, as is the usual custom. If taken uncooked, although 
a delightful addition to any meal, its curative qualities are never developed, 
and it is because it is so seldom cooked that its remarkable efTect on such 
complaints has not been perceived. The celery should be cut into small 
pieces, and boiled in a little water until soft, and the water should be used 
as a drink Add sweet milk (new milk, if it is to be had) to the cooked 
celery. After the water has been drained off, thicken it with a little flour 
and nutmeg, or add some tomatoes; let it boil up till all are incorporated, 
and serve hot on toast. A physcian — in England, we think — says that he 
has many times put his rheumatic patients upon such a diet, and with un- 
failing success. Within the year, we have often been treated with cooked 
celery, and find it excellent, and if found to be a cure for one of life's 
greatest enemies it will stand pre-eminently above all other roots. 

THE KUM-QUAT. 
This is a distinct species of the orange, growing naturally in China, dif- 
fering in many respects from all the varieties of the common orange. It is 
only a shrub, not growing so large as the quince, nor often reaching the 
height of four feet. The fruit is between the size of a large cherry and a 
medium-sized plum. In Japan and China it is seldom used for any thing 
but a preserve. If put up in sugar it is delicious; the rind and all are eaten. 



588 MISCELLANEOUS. 

and is exceedingly rich when used as a sweetmeat, and excellent when added 
to the Chinese chow-chow. On account of its excellence as a preserve, it 
will, as soon as well known and appreciated, be introduced into our South- 
ern States. In most parts of Florida it will do well, and be a very valuable 
acquisition. It is a great addition also to the green-house, being low in 
size, but bushy, and its bright, glossy, dark-green leaves, with the small 
golden fruit at the end of the branch, make it very attractive, even if there 
were nothing of value in it. 

FADED ROSES. 

It has been said that the faded roses of a bouquet can be used to make rose 
perfume. If the leaves are put into a dish, and a little alcohol sprinkled 
over them, the room where they stand will be filled with the odor of roses. 
In England it is a common practice, we understand; very large vases are 
kept about rooms, into which all faded rose-leaves are thrown and sprinkled 
with alcohol, and thus a very pleasant atmosphere is secured about the 
house. But we do not know any other way of preparing rose perfume except 
by the regular process of distilling. 

Rose flavor can be given to cake, if any one fancies it, by putting the 
butter to be used in the cake in a saucer or plate, and setting it for some 
hours inside a vase filled with rose-leaves that are sprinkled with alcohol. 

TO PUT AWAY WOOLENS AND FURS. 

Wrap in linen, after sprinkling with moth-powder, lay in a deep box, and 
paste a strip of paper over the line where the cover fits on. We see paste- 
board barrels are being made for packing woolens and furs, but don't know 
where they can be obtained. We think they will be very desirable. The 
head fits down snugly, and when the barrel is filled and the head fitted in, a 
strip of brown paper is pasted over the seam. If the articles are well aired, 
shaken, and entirely free from moth eggs when put into this barrel, it is im- 
possible for any insect to find entrance. 

TO WASH SWISS MUSLIN CURTAINS WITH BALL FRINGES. 
We have never been so fortunate as to have any such curtains to wash ; 
but if we had, should carefully run a soft string or coarse thread through the 
balls to keep them in place, and prevent them from tangling. Then we 
would put them to soak overnight in clear, soft water, in which put pulver- 
ized borax, a tablespoonful to a pail of cold water, and add a teaspoonf ul of 
ammonia. In the morning squeeze^ not rub, the curtains out of the water, 
and put them into warm, clean suds, and pat and squeeze till the dirt is out. 
Then rinse in one water without bluing ; then in another blued. Starch in 
very clear starch, not very stiff, just so as to make them look like new 



MISCELLANEOUS. 589 

muslin. Snap out gently, and hang up very evenly on the line, and care- 
fully pull in shape, and see that all the balls are in their proper place. 
When dry, lay on a large table, on a clean sheet, sprinkle, pull straight and 
fold up tightly for two or three hours. When they are well and evenly 
dampened by being thus rolled up, spread on a clean, fine ironing sheet, and 
iron on the wrong side. If convenient, let some one stand at the back of the 
table and hold the curtain smoothly and evenly over the sheet as you iron. 
Have it lie on the cloth straight by a thread, so there need be no uneven 
spot. We think Swiss curtains could be made to look like new if done up in 
this way. 

HOUSE-PLANTS. 

Plants that do not thrive, evidently have not enough sunlight. If you can 
not give them that, they will return you but few, if any, blossoms, and will 
grow tall and awkward, with little tendency to throw out side-branches. 
But they will do better if you cut them back — "2)inch back" — from the 
top, and they will tend more to side-branches. The insects on your plants 
should be watched carefully and destroyed before they get possession, or the 
plants will soon die. If you can put them in a close closet, or close out- 
building, where it will be safe to set a pan of coals, and, throwing a quantity 
of fine-cut tobacco on the coals, closing the door quickly, the smoke will 
destroy the lice. 

MOTHS. 

A correspondent writes that she has much trouble with moths in one room 
only, the furniture of which is upholstered with crimson and drab brocade 
satin. "There are numberless wliite and drab millers come from the furni- 
ture, and the carpet where the furniture stands. They seem to hatch out in 
the carpet, but by pounding the furniture the millers come out of them ; can 
you tell me what to do?" 

No doubt the hair with which the furniture is filled has either been im- 
perfectly cured, or pigs'-bristles have been mixed with the hair. That is 
sometimes done ; a very dishonest act. If that is the case, the first year the 
furniture will not be very troublesome, but grow worse each succeeding year. 
There is no remeily (we once went througli the same experience) but to 
take all the furniture into the yard, and have the filling all ripped out and 
burned, if on opening it you find, as we did, the moth-worms in the hair and 
bristles. Then the wood-work and springs must be well cleaned, and Persian 
powder scattered over it for several days; then well brushed and sent to some 
honest upholsterer. 

Meantime the carpet must be taken up, well beaten, then spread on a 
clean floor, a clean wet cloth spread over, and a very hot (not scorching) 
iron be passed slowly over the cloth, keeping it on till the cloth dries under 



590 MISCELLANEOUS. 

the iron. Wring the cloth out again, and proceed as before. It is a long, 
tedious, hard piece of work, but effectual. The steam from the wet cloth as 
the iron is pressed over it will destroy the eggs of the miller. 

TO CLEAN WINDOWS. 

Chamois, or bucksin, cleans a window very nicely; but if the wings of 
turkeys, geese or large fowls are saved and well dried, there is notliing 
better — far more economical than chamois, besides removing the dirt more 
effectually. With the wings, all the dirt can be taken out of corners, and 
when done there will be no lint on the glass. 

Nothing is better for cleaning stoves, brushing out corners or brushing 
off furniture than a good, clean wing. 

TO WASH POINT-LACE. 

This is easily dono on a bottle; but especial care must be taken to have it 
rolled on evenly, and all the purling or fine edge picked out evenly. This 
can be made sure by basting the lace on a strip of a fine old linen handker- 
chief or muslin, thus securing the edge from displacement, and then rolling 
it on a bottle. Pure white soap is the best to use for all such fine washing. 

BORAX FOE WASHING — HOW MUCH? 

One tablespoonful to a gallon for fine clothes that are not very dirty or 
yellow. Two even tablespoonfuls for coarser and more soiled articles. Have 
the borax well pulverized before putting it to the water. 

COLD FEET. 

Many who suffer from cold feet, either from a severe cold or imperfect 
circulation, often attempt to remedy the evil by putting bottles of hot water 
to the feet at night, on going to bed. This is better than to lose sleep and 
rest through the discomfort of cold feet, but it is a practice that ought not to 
be allowed to grow into a habit. If carried to excess it becomes very de- 
bilitating. If this artificial heat is an absolute necessity, do not use glass 
bottles, but strong stone-ware. And, if stone, be sure and have it filled with 
hot water just as you are ready to get into bed. Do not attempt to heat it, 
as some do, by placing the stone bottle or jug in the oven ; for disastrous, 
if not fatal, results may follow. When taken from the oven, the moment 
cold air strikes the bottle, it is liable to explode and do much harm. But, 
remember, if the water is boiling hot when put into the jug, no harm will 
follow, even if placed in a warm oven to keep the heat. Boiling the water, 
and filling the bottle while boiling hot, frees it from gas, and that same water 
may then be used, without refilling or uncorking the bottle, for several daye, 
and heated by laying the bottle in the oven an hour or so before retiring. 



MISCELLANEOUS. 591 

It is wise to keep this in mind, for convenience as well as safety. Glass 
bottles are unsafe. Zinc and tin corrode, and can not be easily cleaned. 

USEFUL HINTS. 

Stoves blackened when entirely cold will keep the clean look a very great 
deal longer than when they are polished when the stove is warm. 

Zinc can be brightened by rubbing it with kerosene oil, but it is much 
better to have it painted, as this will save much labor. 

After you have swept your carpets quite clean, you may brighten them 
with a flannel-cloth wrung from beefs-gall and water. 

White paint may be cleaned as well as windows, by using whiting and 
water, while grained wood-work should be wiped with a flannel-cloth wrung 
out of cold tea. 

Wash pantry shelves with hot alum and water to rid them of ants, water- 
bugs and other troublesome insects. 

CARE OF LAMP CHIMNEYS. 

After the lamps are filled, and the chimneys washed and put on the shelf, 
take pieces of newspaper and roll in the form of a chimney and slip over 
chimney and lamp. It will protect from dust and flies, and, when the lamps 
are lighted, one will be rewarded by finding them as clear and bright as 
when first put in order. 

CARE OF COPPER KETTLES AND BOILERS. 
Our grandmothers kept theirs like gold by washing them every day in 
buttermilk, and rubbing dry with a flannel, and we imagine their grand- 
daughters will find no more reliable way. If buttermilk is not to be liad, 
wet the kettle with milk, let it dry thoroughly, then wipe the milk off with 
a damp cloth, and polish with a chamoia-skin. 

FLAVORING EXTRACTS. 

No doubt, when obtained from dealers of known reliability, they may be 
perfectly pure and safe. But the flavor is so far inferior to the fresh fruit 
or spice tliat we are always reluctant to use it, preferring the simplest spices 
where fresh fruit can not be obtained. But many of these extracts can be 
prepared at home, and thus secure their purity or freedom from any 
unpleasant or injurious adulterations. 

Vanilla may be made by cutting up fine one ounce of fresh vanilla beans, 
and rubbing into them two ounces of granulated sugar; then put it all into a 
bottle, and pour over it four ounces of pure water and ten ounces of ninety- 
five per cent, deodorized alcohol. Keep it fourteen days in a warm place, 
shaking it up occasionally, when it is ready for use. 



592 MISCELLANEOUS. 

Extract of lemon can be made by cutting the rinds of two lemons quite finej 
put them in a four-ounce bottle, and fill up with the best deodorized alcohol. 
Keep the bottle in a warm place for a week. Tlien put into another bottle^ 
large 'enough to contain the whole preparation when done, two drams of 
fresh oil of lemon, add to it four ounces of the best deodorized alcohol, the 
juice of half a lemon, and strain to it the tincture of the lemon-peel. 

Extract of orange is made in the same way. 

Put to one ounce of red rose-leaves one pint of deodorized alcohol, and let 
it stand eight days closely corked; then press the liquor from the leaves, add- 
ing thereto half an ounce of otto of roses, and you have an excellent 
specimen of extract of roses. 

Deodorized alcohol should be always used for making extracts; and if the 
oils used are not fresh and pure the whole will taste like turpentine, and be 
ruined. 

FRUIT JUICES. 

To make the best preparation of fruit juices, be sure and take the best 
specimens, fresh and free from specks. Press out the juice with lemon- 
squeezers, or pound in a marble mortar; then strain through a "tamis" or 
flannel-bag, and add to each pint of juice six ounces of granulated sugar, 
and set it over the fire in a clean porcelain kettle; bring to the boiling 
point, take off all scum that may arise, and bottle in two or four ounce 
bottles. 

Juice left over from canning fruit, or after the fruit is used, may, by add- 
ing a little more sugar and just boiling up once, be bottled, and used for 
puddings and sauces and for making mince-pies, and, we think, is far better 
than wine or brandy. 

PLASTER OF PARIS, 

Mixed to a thin paste with gum-arabic water, is excellent for mending 
broken glass, china or parian ware; but must be used immediately, as it 
soon hardens. It is best to mix only about enough at a time to mend one 
piece. 

Five parts gelatine to one of acid chromate of lime put on broken edges 
with a camel's-hair brush, and the edges pressed firmly together for a few 
minutes and then exposed to the sun, will make a cement that can not be 
dissolved or broken aay more readily than an unbroken piece. 

SUGARS. 

The best and purest sw^'ars are the hard and white or the coarse granulated. 
The fine powdered sugars are never safe or economical, as they are so 
generally adulterated. 

\ 



MISCELLANEOUS. 59S 



PRESERVING EGGS A YEAR. 

After hatching time is past, collect thirty or fifty dozen (or buy them fresh, 
when eggs are fifteen or twenty cents a dozen), and prepare a liquid thus: 
One pint of common salt, one pint of lime ; dissolve in four gallons of boil- 
ing water; let it settle, and put the eggs into the liquor in stone jars when 
<old. Cover the eggs entirely in the liquid, and use stone, not soft crockery 
jars. Thus imbedded, eggs will keep for twelve months, and come out in 
good shape, though, after all, they will not be equal to new-laid eggs. 

OIL-CLOTH OR ZINC— WHICH IS BEST? 

Oil-cloth is not as durable, perhaps, unless well cared for, but much pret- 
tier and more homelike in the sitting-room or parlor. We prefer zinc for the 
kitchen, as the fire may fall from the stove, or hot irons be carelessly set down 
on it, which would spoil an oil-cloth very soon. But when oil-cloth is used, 
if the edges are not bound they soon wear shabby. Some nail strips of zinc 
around to fasten the oil-cloth ; but we do not think it looks as well as com- 
mon carpet-binding, one edge laid under, the other over the oil-cloth, and 
tacked down neatly with galvanized tacks. Strips of cloth of suitable color 
may be cut from the strongest part of any cast-off garment, and will answer 
very well, but carpet binding looks nicer. 

TO PUT SHELLS ON WOOD OR PASTEBOARD. 

Melt common rosin and stir in brick-dust. Proportion : about one part 
rosin and two parts brick-dust. Use like sealing-wax. 

BLEACHING-FLUID. 

Dissolve two pounds of sal-soda in a gallon of hot water, and add one pound 
of good lime; stir the mixture for a few minutes, allow to stand foi half an 
hour, and then carefully pour off and bottle the clear liquid. Half a pint of 
this may be added to each tub of water. 

THE CARE OF RANGES. 

There are two or three points in the care of stoves and ranges not touched 
upon in the article on that subject in previous pages. After the plate on the 
top is well cleaned, open the dampers, twist up a few pieces of paper or 
shavings, put small chips, splinters or kindling over the paper lightly. If 
thrown on hastily in a mass, there will be no breathing holes for the fire when 
kindled. On this light foundation, put a few pieces of pine wood or kindling; 
but use sparingly, as wood ashes clog a coal fire and injure the stove. If in 
haste, and a quick fire is needed, use only two or three bits of wood, and lajr 



594 MISCELLANEOUS. 

over them a shovelful of coke; nothing helps to kindle a fire so quickly as 
coke, and it is a great help as well as good economy to keep it always ready 
to use when in a hurry; but it must not be used lavishly, as it makes too 
hot a fire. When all is arranged, replace all the covers, see that the dampers 
are all open, and light fire from beneath. If lighted from above, it will 
be necessary to take oflf one cover, and the burning paper will fill the house 
with smoke. 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 



The following Index is arranged for convenient reference, and gives, alpha- 
betically arranged, the page of every cooking recipe and rule In the preceding 
pages. After it is a supplementary index, which covers all miscellaneous rules 
and bits of information relating to house-keeping, outside of cooking. These, 
with the table of contents in the beginning of the book, will give every Item 
of information, ready for use at a moment's notice: 



Page 

Bannocks, Scotch 433 

Beans. 

Baked 502 

Canned 532 

Beefsteak. 

French broiled 478 

Rolls 478 

With oysters 476 

"With tomatoes 476 

Beef. 

Boiled corned 479 

Dried, unsmoked 479 

Spiced corned 477 

Tongue, to cure 477 

Tongue, fresh 476 

Biscuit 437 

Qraliam 437 

Breakfast, how to get... 65 

Bread 426 

Apple 436 

Baking.. 428 

Corn 431-438 

Corn, Southern 432 

Dainty 42S 

Dough. 430 

Draft on 4'29 

Excellent 431 

Four loaves of. 427 

Good 430 

Graham 435 

Height of. 428 

Pans for 4.'8 

Potatoe 431 

Sponged 429 

Spongeie>s 429 

Sour, to use 433 

Stale, t:-> use 432 

Tests for kn ead- 

ing 429-430 

Toturn 429 

With mush 432 

Bdns _ 433 

Hot cross 434 

Cake 522 

Cheese 523 

Oup - ^24 



Page 
Cake. 

Drop 523 

Hickory-nut 523 

Jenny Lind 522 

Loaf 522 

Loaf, genuine 522 

Lunch, simple 524 

Molasses 526 

New Years 523 

Paris 525 

Reason, curls up 522 

Spiced 524 

Cabbage. 

Leaf-Dole-Mah 477 

Stewed 502 

Candy. 

Butter Scotch 555 

Cream 555 

Peanut 556 

Cans. 

Glass 527 

Tin 526 

That leak 528 

To prepare 526 

To protect 528 

Canning. 

Fruit for 527 

How done 529 

Peaches 520 

Pears 529 

Piae Apples 530 

Plums 531 

Sugar for 527 

Carving 467-469 

Cauliflower, scalloped..«504 

Celery, stewed 503 

Charlotte Russe 520 

Cheese 549 

Cream 5.50 

Devonshire 553 

From Potatoes 551 

Relish 561 

Straws 550 

To use dry 551 

Chicken 486 

And corn 493 



Page 

Chicken. 

Croquettes 500 

Fricassee 492 

Fricassee, excellent. ..492 

Jelly 536 

Livers 496 

Pat6 493 

Pie 590 

Pudding .'.492 

Saute 490 

Stewed whole 493 

To steam 494 

Variety in cooking.. ..489 

Chili-colorad 491 

Cod Fish. 

Baked 462 

Best 460 

Boiled, fresh 461 

Matelote'of 462 

On toast 461 

With egg-sauce 469 

Coffee. 

Arabian...., 185 

Best 184 

Filtered 190 

Four rules for 190 

Pot, to clean 138 

To brown 188 

To grind 188 

To make 188-189 

Turkish ; 187 

Vienna 554 

Cookies, sugar 624 

Corn. 
And tomatoes, can 'd. .532 

Canned 531 

Dried 502 

Green 500 

Hulled 439 

Ragout 502 

Crackers. 

Graham 434 

Oatmeal 434 

Cream. 

Ice 519 

Spanish .520 

6e& 



596 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 



Page 

Crkam. 

Tapioca 521 

Whipped 519 

Croquettes. 

Uiiicken 500 

Clani 166 

Meat 119 

Crushed Wheat 137 

Witli dried berries 1S8 

Witlu whortleberries..lc!8 

Curry. 

Bengal 517 

Boiled rice for 199 

For cold meat 518 

To use dry 518 

Dessert. 

Puffs 511 

Orauge.. 521 

Duck. 

Roast 500 

To stew 494 

Dumpling. 

Apple 517 

Berry 51S 

Eggs 506 

Beating 506 

Boiled 507-508 

Curried 518 

For soup 456 

Fricasseed 508 

Italian 508 

Pickling 540 

Preserving 575-593 

Rumbled 508 

Scrambled 508 

Stuffed 509 

Egg-plant. 

To fry 504 

To stew 504 

Stuffed. 505 

Fat, to clarify 419 

Fish 158 

Balls 160 

Chowder 458 

Cloths 161 

Cream 160 

Drawn butter lor 158 

Fritters 459 

To pickle. 159 

To warm up 161 

Fowi^. 

Curried 499 

To stew old 495 

Fritters, hominy 435 

Fruits, spiced 539 

Gems. 

Flour 436 

Graham 433 

Graham, sodaless 435 

Ginger-bread. 

Fairy 525 

Hard 526 

Soft , 525 

Ginger-snaps 526 

Halibut, boiled 458 

Ham. 

Baked 486 

Boiled 484 

Boned ./, 485 



If t 



Page 

Ham. 

Siu-ffed 481 

Sugar-cured 181 

Herbs. 

Bouquet of 519 

Drying 81 

Hodge-Pouge, Indian ...519 

Jelly. 

Apple 533-5.35 

Currant 533 

Currant, spiced 53^1 

Fruit for 533 

Grape 531 

Orange 535 

Peacii 536 

Plum 534 

Quince 534 

(Quince and crab-ap- 
ple ...; 535 

Johnny-cake 435 

Kidneys. 

Broiled 480 

Deviled 180 

Lemonade 332-333 

Loaves. 

Westphalia 475 

Veal 174 

Macaroni with toma- 
toes 505 

Marmalade from mixed 
fruit 521 

Meat 169 

Baked 471 

Boiling 169 

Broiling 472 

Collops 475 

Economy in 472 

Fritters 475 

Loaves 471 

Seasoning 173 

Stews 470 

Stew from cold 476 

To warm up 478 

Muffins 136 

Sweet 4;i5 

Virginia 438 

Mu.shroom 505 

"A la Bordelaise " 565 

Baked , 558 

Catsup 561 

Constades of .565 

For garnish .560 

Fricassee 565 

In crust .560 

In shells 559 

Pickle 562-563 

Powder .562 

Ragout .563 

Sauce 559-563-564 

Soup .560 

Stew 563-.564 

Stuffed .565 

With beef 560-501 

With gravy .561 

With omelet .560 

Oatmeal 141 

Bread 443 

Cake 442 

Cake,Sc(^h», 443 



Oatmeal. 

Porridge 442 

Pudding 443 

Omelet 509 

Baked ,510 

Chee.-?e 509 

Plain i 510 

Oysters 462 

I'ried 461 

Milk lor 457 

Mock 465 

Palties 4C8 

Pickled 463 

Raw 4(3 

Scalloped 466 

Shells fiom 457 

To fricassee 464 

Pancakes. 

Bread 433 

Bread-dust for 433 

Buckwheat, mock 438 

Sour-bread 433 

Pickles. 

Cauliflower 542 

Chow-chow .540 

Green Tomato 546 

Onion 542 

String- bean 541 

To green 538 

To cover 538 

Walnut 541 

Pie. 

Apple-custard ...510 

Ajple, dried 513 

Chess .513 

Cream 514 

Custard 513 

Mince 511 

Mince, wineless 512 

Orange 611 

Pumpkin 511 

Rhubaib 513 

Pig, baked 483 

Pilau 491 

Pork. 

Chops, curried 480 

Spare-rib 484 

Steak 484 

Potato. 

Baked 506 

Noodles 503 

Rinsed 506 

Souffle 504 

Pot-au-feu 424 

Poultry 486 

Basting 488 

Gravies 495 

Pudding. 

Apple, steamed 517 

Bags 518 

Berry 517 

Brown Betty ~ 514 

Chocolate -^lo 

Cream 514 

Economical 514 

Fruit 514 

Indian 516 

Indian, baked 516 

Indian, boiled .,,516 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX. 



597 



Page 

Pudding. 

Potato, sweet 518 

Puff. 514 

RoU-s, conimeul 4:^5 

Rusk, Berkshire 439 

Salad. 

Carrot 544 

Chicken 54;! 

Cliiokeii, witliout oil..546 

Dressing, Freucli 544 

Dressing, plain 545 

Dressing, Swiss 543 

Potato 514 

Simple 544 

Spinach 543 

Tomato 543 

Sally Luna 436 

Salmon steaks 460 

Sandwiches, mixed 546 

" With Cheese..551 

Sauce. 

Chicken 494 

Game 491 

Lobster 465 

Maitre d'Hotel 559 

Mushroom 559 

Spanisli 4S0 

Tomato 592 

S.\ucE FOR Puddings. 

Hard 518 

Orange in 515 

Spiced 518 

Shortcake. 

Orange 440 

Pine-apple 449 

Strawberry 439-440 

Soup 444 

Bean 449 

Bourllion 444 

Caramel for 456 

Carrot 452 



Page 
Soup. 

Cheese 551 

Clear 456 

Corned- beef. 449 

Crab 457 

Cream of rice 457 

Economical 450 

Eggs for 456 

Family 446 

Fat from 449 

Gravy 446 

Gumbo 450 

Harvest 450 

Julienne 452 

Lobster 445-448-457 

Macaroni 447-451 

Maigre 447 

Oyster 457 

Ox -tail.. 456 

Pea, green 450-452 

Pea-nut 451 

Pea-nut,wltli oysters,452 

Potato 455 

Potato, Swiss 455 

Quantity of 456 

Root-cutter for 453 

Sheep's-head 451 

Spinacla 449 

Summer 452 

Tomato 449-455 

Turtle, canned 451 

Turtle, green 335 

Turtle, mock 452 

Vegetable 448-449 

Vermicelli 448 

Spinach 503 

Squash, summer 504 

Succotash 591 

Creimed 501 

Sweet-breads 482 

To boil 479 



Pago 

Sweet-breads. 

With Mushrooms 4S3 

Witli Peas 482 

With i omatoes 483 

SwEKT Pickles. 

Citron 541 

Cucumber 541 

Tomato, ri( e 540 

Watermelon 541 

Ternipin, stewed 334-467 

Tomatoes. 

Baked 505 

Canned 532 

Catsup 539-642 

Custard 519 

Tripe, with Tomatoes. ..475 

Trout, to cook 459 

Turkey 499 

Boned 496 

With oyster dressing..498 

Vinegar, to make 538-539 

Venison. 

Roast 481 

Steak 482 

Vocabulary of cooking 
terms 421 

Waffles. 

Indian meal 437 

Light 434 

Welsh Rare-bit 439-506 

Yeast 424 

Bitter taste of 321 

Compressed 425 

Dry 424 

Fresh, without yeast..425 

- Hard 425 

Hop 426 

Potato 425 

Proportion of 425 

Quantity of ..427 

To dissolve 429 



ESDEX SUPPLE3IENTAIIY. 



rugo 

Beef-tea ckVS 

Boos wax 5S1 

Bl.ANKKT^. 

To put aw^aj" 50 

To wiisli lt>(> 

Bleaching iluid .=>i« 

Bronzes, ro C-iesui 'JAi 

BUTTKK. 

Brine for 550 

CvH'iler 577 

Calioxi, ironing SO 

Canaries. 

Asilnna in 573 

Food for " SO 

CAiirKT. 

Grouse fi"om .'208 

To brighten 591 

Celery, for rheuma- 
tism 5S7 

China. 

To wasli 61 

To warm 61 

Cocoa-shells 554 

Cold feet 5;»0 

Color, to restore 575 

Copper. 

Boiler .Sin 

Kettle 591 

Cord, a 1, Blackberry 555 

Croani and Milk fer- 
menting 519 

Crr-iiLASS." 

To clean 6i; 

To polish 62 

Dairy, a Champion 552 

D.tiU-W ASHING Ul-oSi 

.\lone H3 

Briar-brnsh for 142 

Whisk-brooiu for 14.' 

Dnsting o64 

Eggs, "meilicinal use 

of „.575-59S 

To keep 509 

Tui-keys- 509 

Eyes, the ;58o 

E.\TKA.CTS 591 

A Ict^hol for- 5^''2 

Fruit juices. 592 

LiMnon 592 

Orange 592 

Rose.T^ .^92 

Vanillic ,5$)l 

Folded writing „ 56S 

Finger-marks! 575 

FKAIHEK-PfSTSK, 

Care of 122 

To put away 122 

Fire, to start (V"-> 

To act in ■:v^S 

To pnT out COT 

Fleas. froiTi animals 5<=i 

Flie<, to drive away 5S<< 

To protect fi-ora...! 393 

(59^ 



Fage 
Floors. 

Tiled, to clean 574 

I Hard woixl, to clean... 57 
Hai\i wixxl, to polish 59 

Flour, when to use 427 

Flowers, Cut 5S4 

Furs, to put away 

' Grate, to clean Sit: 

: Grease from stone steps 2;»9 

\ Griddles, Soap-sione 5S1 

I Hair, the 5S5 

j Heart-trouble 227 

I Holes in walls. 575 

I House-plauis. ....5S9 

I Ink. 

I Fixmi furniture.. ..297-299 

From linen 571 

On carpet 2i>7 

To remove 57S 

I r o n n\ old. to r e- 

movc 29-106-57S 

Ikon-AVare. 

Outside of. 13S 

To clean 137-S13 

Ivory, to renew 299 

Japan-ware. 

Care of. 5S7 

To clean 5S(J 

Kum-iius^t. lli<? 5S7 

Lamp iTiimneys 591 

Wicks. 56S 

Linen. 

To put away 56 

To utilize i>So 

Marrlk. 

To clean .297-29S-299 

Statues 577 

MlU-^EW. 

From linen 57S 

From muslin.. 577 

To prevent..- 404 

Moths 55^9 

Fg^ of SOS 

To exterminate. 123 

To prevent 3l.9-il>5 

Oil-cloths, care of. ,=171 

Cil-Tuarks on paper 29S 

P.AINT. 

To clean 5S5-691 

To remove ™. 290 

Fans. 

Bread ....S13 

Cake SIS 

Pantry-shelves 591 

Flastor of paris, 592 

Pi-'isons. to neutralize....577 

roi.lSHlNG-IRONS. 574 

To keep 179 

Pond-lily, the 254 

Bars, to banish S^ 

Binaos. care of. .'>93 

Roof", kind of 161 

Roses, faded.— ....... ...«...6S8 



I Page 

Scouring Biills...: 575 

! Silver, to clean 576 

Sink, care of 279 

Shirt-bosom boam i6S 

To iron 5(9 

To starch 569 

Spices, to buy 576 

Sckia, use of.! 5^4 

A nd wasliiug-soda:....5?2 
St.vins 

Fruit 579-5S0 

Vegetable 579 

Wine 580 

Silk, to clean St'6 

Soap 169 

Starch I7l 

Coffee 5«) 

Fine - 567 

Flour 5S0 

Potato :...]73 

Pivporiion of. 174 

Kice- water 172 

To prevent scum ou...lSO 

Vessel for 569 

"Wheat 171 

Stoves. 

tracks in 574 

Drittt on 429 

Sunsh ine on 429 

To blacK 591 

Sperniaeeti, take out...2\>S 

Spots on fvirnitui-e. 29S 

Sugjirs 692 

TA\n.r-ci OTHS 

Buif and drab 572 

Pink and blue 572 

M a.-^hine: colored 572 

Tar, to leiiiove 299 

Tin -\\ ARE. 

Outside of 13S 

To clean 139-313 

Tea. ad n iteration 576 

^ arioty of 195 

Velvet, to renew 29S-667 

A\" ASHING. 

Black and white. w'6 

Borax for 413-590 

Brown linen ■'iTtt 

By bleaching 163 

Calicoes 5t>6-567 

( olortHl articles ...57^-580 

Flannels IfO 

Hints for 161 

Hosierv ."iCS-oe? 

Point iace 590 

S<-.da 5(» 

Swiss curtains. 5SS 

I'i'derwoar 163 

White silk handker- 
chiefs ,v<4 

Zinc or oil-cloth 593 

Kemoviitgspots fn.">m,'>70 
To brighten,, -....591 
















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